#prisoner!dean

I am rubbing my hands up and down my arms, trying to heat up but it is no use. My clothes are still wet from when they dunked the bucket of ice cold water over my head. 

I know what they are doing, how they work. I used to work with them. I never thought to be on the receiving end of these methods that I have always condemned.

Because the government doesn’t cut or punch or kick. They don’t want to break your body, they want to break your mind. To make you go crazy, to start doubting whether it is all a dream or the cruel reality.

They want you desperate for anything, desperate to make it stop. They want you to submit.

Sleep. I just want to sleep. I am so so tired… I can’t remember the last time I closed my eyes and slept.

The effort of rubbing my arms feels like pushing a hundred kilos.

My body stopped trembling a while ago but the cold, it seeped into my body, into my bones. Every move is agony, my joints are rigid from sitting so still in the same position for a while. My only indication that it has indeed been a while…

The light in this room, blue-white-ish TL lamps are buzzing and flickering above my head. The zooming of it, it is burned into my mind by now. I don’t think I will ever get it out of my head… If I ever get out of here.

My head is leaning against the cold concrete wall and I feel my eyes droop. I can feel the sweet hands of sleep caressing my face, my neck, my back and legs easing out the soreness, those hands that try to fight the cold and give me the sweet release of darkness. 

A darkness that I welcome, that I need, that I want so badly.

Sleep I want to sleep.

My eyes close and my breaths start to even out, like falling back into the night, star speckled skies kissing my skin.

“Wakey wakey!” a voice shoots right before I am hit with another bucket of ice water, jolting me out of that soft darkness in the most brutal way..

My body aches with the sudden movement, my heart skips a beat when my muscles cramp painfully, a sharp wind fills the room. My wet clothes setting my body shivering once more.

“No sleeping, Y/n” Camp says from the door.

“F-Fuck y-you” I say between clattering teeth.

“Tell us where they went, and this can stop, then you can sleep.” 

It sounds so good, the promise of sleep. But they won’t, they will just kill me and then capture my love. Never, I will never break.

“N-No” I wrap my arms tight around my knees, trying to keep as much warmth as I can with me, like I could keep it trapped against me.

“You’re even more annoying than when you worked here. I didn’t think that was possible” He sighs before he continues. “Doesn’t matter. I have all the time in the world.” 

He pushes a button on the little remote in his hand and the wind starts blowing harder and colder.

“You don’t” he says with a smile and closes the heavy metal door again.

I stare at the wall in front of me and hang onto those words, the words he said, the only words that matter.

“I love you.”

“You are under no terms to negotiate, mister Winchester” I hear Sanchez’s voice through the door before it opens and he steps inside, looking at where I am still sitting in the corner of the room.

“I think I am” His voice answers through the walkie talkie, Dean’s voice. 

My baby.

I crawl half towards the sound on instinct, my eyes strained on that little device in Sanchez’s hand, as if Dean could come out of it.

Wait… what is he doing, why is he talking to Sanchez when he should be as far away as possible from this place ?

“What do you even want from us ? Do you know how stupid you are in contacting us ?” Sanchez chuckles, looking down at me.

I guess they are letting me hear this to break me, but if it does anything, it’s giving me all the courage in the world. 

“The only stupid ones are you. I want Y/n. Let her go and my brother and I will back off” The way my name sounds in his voice makes me glad I am already on the floor, my knees would have buckled at hearing it.

“And what if we don’t ?” 

“Then you are making a very, very big mistake. Because I am coming for her and nothing,” his voice deepens to an icy tone that I haven’t heard before from him “Nothing will keep me away from her.”

Sanchez’s eyes land on me, and for just a second I can see the fear in them, in knowing that he could be hunted like prey.

Because Dean is the apex predator. The one who hunts predators. He is my wolf.

The flash disappears as fast as it came and a cocky smirk pulls the corners of Sanchez's mouth upwards.

“It’s gonna be a no, but I can make a trade, you for her.” 

“NO !” I scream out. What is he doing ? I’m not worth getting in trouble for. He should be running !

Sanchez lets go of the button too late, Dean heard my scream, I know he heard it because it takes longer than usual for him to answer.

“You’re going to regret saying no to my offer, and if she’s hurt… I will stab your face” another little pause and I thought it was all he was gonna say before another crack sounds through the device, a sign that the channel is now open.

“I’m coming for you baby, hold on.” 

Sanchez cuts the sounds too late again, I heard it and I am ready to hold on through any Hell they can give me now.

This time I am the one smiling before I close my exhausted eyes.

The cold water stopped, the freezing wind also stopped. Everything stopped aside from the few small meals I got. Have they forgotten about me ?

I didn’t sleep, I couldn’t. 

“Hold on.” 

These words keep me awake. The small hope that my wolf is coming for me but also the fear that he will get caught because of me.

Suddenly the lights turn off and I am basked in darkness before a red light turns on together with a heavy horn blaring through the building.

I look at the red lamp and see it flicker seven times followed by a little pause. Protocol seven, meaning there is a breach in the facility.

Don’t get hurt, don’t get hurt, don’t get hurt… Baby don’t risk it all for me.

“Dean” I try to scream to let me know where I am but my voice is weak and hoarse. “Dean…”

The metal door of my cell starts groaning. I scramble back when I see the metal bending before it snaps off its hinges and is hurled aside with a loud bang.

A man with black hair and striking blue eyes looks at me. His head tilted a little to the side, like he was more animal than human.

Considering he just pulled out a metal door like it is nothing, makes me realize he is high likely not human indeed.

A woman with short black hair slips beside him and takes my hands. Jody Miller. The sheriff and hunter. Dean’s friends whom I lied to so often..

“Follow me” she says while hoisting me up. 

I groan at the lack of strength in my legs but I cling to her as we run into the hall.

“Can you take us out, Cas ?” Jody asks the strange man.

“No, I am not at full power. We will run to the side entrance and meet them there.”

“Dean.” I gasp. “Is he here ?”

“Yes” she starts and I hear gunshots in the distance. “They are creating a distraction. Hurry Y/n, we don’t have much time.”

I try to follow her as best as I can. We reach the same door where I last saw my baby and I feel my heart cave in. We can’t get past these doors without someone holding the button.

This won’t work…

The gunshots grow louder in the distance, I turn my head towards the sound, just in time to see Dean and Sam running around the corner and towards us.

He’s still wearing the gray overall. Sam too…

They never left ?

Dean and I make eye contact and he is running faster towards me, a soft smile on his face and tears start to pool in his beautiful eyes.

I let Jody go and stumble towards Dean, my love.

A sob breaks through me when his hands wrap around my waist and pulls me close, so close that I can feel his thundering heart against my chest, feel his breath fanning over my face right before he gives me a deep but quick kiss. And his warmth that is making my cold body painfully burn, but also bringing me back to life.

“I told you I was coming for you” he pants.

“Y-you did” I nod and can’t stop the tears from falling.

Heavy footsteps come from down the corridor and I look at the button.

“Dean… the door -” I start but he cuts me off.

“Don’t worry baby” he says and puts me behind him as the guards come closer and points a gun at them. 

I didn’t even notice he was holding one.

I fist his gray suit wanting to move in front of him but his arm keeps me safely behind his body.

Metal starts groaning behind me and I look to see Cas breaking one of the doors open while Jody holds the button. Cas slips through the crack he made and is doing the same to the second door, the heavy thud of metal on concrete making the ground tremble, and worsen my already dreadful headache. 

What is he ?

“Go” Dean tells me.

“No, not without you” I start walking backwards, pulling on his clothes to make him walk with me while the guards are coming closer.

Jody and Sam slip through the cracks and start running to the army humvee parked right out the door.

“Dean” I say as I pull him further. 

We need to hurry before more men arrive. His head turns to the side, towards one of the pipes on the ceiling and smiles.

As quick as lightning he shoots the pipe and burning hot steams explodes from the hole straight onto the guards who jump back at the heat. 

He grabs my hand and starts running, pulling me along to the car that is waiting for us. He pushes me in first and jumps in after me. Sam is already driving before the door is even closed.

“Everyone’s alright ?” Sam calls through the vehicle.

Everybody nods but the tension is still high. I want to look out the window to see a sort of gate or fence. I have never seen the outside. 

A hand on my face pulls my attention away from the outside and towards the man that holds my heart. I lift my hand to cup his hand on my cheek.

“I… W-why ? How…” I breathe.

“I couldn’t let you there, Y/n” he begins and I wipe the tears rolling down his face. “I need you.”

His brow touches mine and I take him in, his scent, how he feels and how he looks.

He looks tired and dirty. His overall is ripped in certain places but he is not hurt. 

He is here, with me. 

“Brace yourselves !” Sam yells and speeds up the car, driving with high speed towards the fence, the closed fence.

Dean and I wrap our arms tight around each other and press our knees into the seat before us. Locking us in place.

Cas, who is seated next to Sam in the passenger seat does nothing, he is not even wearing a seatbelt, I guess he doesn’t need one.

Jody is sitting next to me and holds her arms and legs against Sam’s seat.

The fence bursts open when the car slams through. A shared grunt goes through the vehicle upon impact but the car doesn’t stop. Sam keeps driving.

“Where are we going now ?” I ask.

“Home” Dean smiles. “We’re going home, baby.” 

I open my weary eyes and rub them. A heavenly colorful light is filling the car, and a ray of sun is caressing my cheek, making me feel like a treasure.

With the heat of the car, and the safety of Dean’s arms, I fell asleep almost right away, just after they explained what happened.

They had been hiding in the woods for almost three days, using improvised traps in an old cabin, gathering the soldiers’ guns one by one… Once free, the Winchesters can’t be hunted, they are the ones you are trapped with.

Three days, which means, with the night before I made them escape, that I didn’t sleep for around a hundred hours… I reached stage five of sleep deprivation and could have started to have hallucinations and psychosis…

A gentle kiss on my forehead makes me smile through the diffuse, almost comfortable, pain in my body. 

“How long did I sleep ?” I mutter barely louder than the calm purring of the engine. 

“Around six hours” Dean answers low, close to my face that is nuzzled on his chest. “Cas cleaned you of the drugs they gave you. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it faster.”

His hand is gently stroking my back. I look around to see Sam still driving, focused on the road, Jody turns to smile at me. 

“I…” I tell her, without moving from Dean. “I lied to you, I’m sorry.”

“Dean explained who you are, what you had to figure out all by yourself, and what you sacrificed for them” she smiles so kindly. “Y/n, you really have nothing to apologize for. What you did was incredibly brave and fair.”

“You showed great bravery indeed” the man they call Cas says with an almost robotic voice. 

I look up at the most beautiful face, the low sun of the end of a sunny day is making his freckled skin look like jewelry in a halo of warm light, his eyes like soft flames.

“You remember I talked about my angel best friend ?” he says softly, running his fingers through my greasy hair.

I look at Cas with wide eyes, letting go of Dean for the first time to sit straighter. 

“A-are you an actual angel ?”

“I am” he says, looking in my eyes. “Thank you for what you did. I couldn’t find Sam and Dean myself.”

The shadows of the trees are passing fast on his angelic face, like a dance that reminds me of my brand new freedom.

“Why did you lie to me ?” Dean drops the question and it feels like the louder crash sound in my heavy head.

“There was no way of getting everybody out.”

He takes a deep breath and frowns. 

“You knew they would torture you” he states. 

I look down. I really didn’t intend to be caught at all, but I can’t say that out loud, I feel like Dean would be crushed just at this idea. 

But when I look up, I can see he understood, and not just him, everyone in the car is receiving what I didn’t say crystal clear. 

A very heavy silence fills the car and the early evening orange sun suddenly seems a little sadder, but I don’t really mind, because it is still warming my back, and I am free now. And not only from Camp and Sanchez, but from my life too.

“You realize you can’t go back ?” Sam asks, looking at me in the rear-view mirror. 

“I don’t want to go back. There is no going back in the dark when you saw the light.”

“Our life is not the light” Dean states. 

“You think mine was ?” I look at him. 

I know Dean understands a lot of things because we talked about it, about the never-ending demands of life, career, money… Trying to find a purpose, forgetting to eat, losing sleep.

“Those are actual monsters” Jody insists. 

“Monsters she can kill” Dean answers perfectly for me. “Monsters that are not human beings, but actual evil.”

I nod, and snuggle against Dean’s chest again, closing my eyes to see the shapes the bright light of low sun makes through my eyelid. 

I wrap my tired arm around my wolf’s body and whisper “I love you”, and while Sam, Castiel and Jody start talking about some organization matters, Dean closes our bubble by wrapping both arms around me, putting his lips on my forehead and whispering “and I love you.”

Fresh orange juice, coffee and a plate with pieces of fruits, some bacon, pancakes and a piece of cheese. 

Anything is allowed, no boss is waiting for me, there is no skipping meals anymore and life has twice more lazy sundays morning. 

I put everything on my tray and stretch my bruised body. The nights are like thunder, fast and violent, sometimes scary, and the days are calm and wrapped in love. 

Life is perfect.

Walking to my bedroom I come across Sam in the hallway, his lip is still cut from that werewolf hunt but he looks serene, a soft smile on his face. 

“Breakfast in bed again ?” he chuckles. “You’re going to make him fat and lazy.”

“Hey fat and happy is better than fit and sad !”

“Donna called” he says in a calm laugh. “She is on some weird hunt, probably vampires but she has no idea how they lure their victims, always students… We need our monster profiler.”

“Monster profiler” I smile wide at the nickname that the hunter community gave me. “It is…” I check the handy but pretty ugly watch Dean gave me. “Nine am. Deanie and I can be ready to leave in around two hours, is that okay ?”

“Sure, I tell her we’re joining” he nods. 

When he leaves, I open the door with my elbow and enter the completely dark room that smells like Dean’s shampoo and sleep. I walk in the dark and put the tray on the nightstand. 

A big hand grasps my thigh and a bear grunt resonates in the intimacy of the room. 

“Baby” I say low with a smile. 

“Mh… that smells delicious” his hoarse voice resonates next to me. “Are you naked ?” his hand travels up, and he groans when he meets the shorts I am wearing. “It’s a scandal.”

“A scandal ?” I chuckle. “Donna needs our help for a vampire hunt.”

“Vampires only come out at night.”

I smile, picking a piece of melon to put it in his mouth, then one for me, and put a knee on the mattress. 

“I said we take our time and come after a lazy breakfast and long shower.”

He hums and his fingers explore the front of my pajama, teasing my pussy through the fabric gently. 

Big muscular arms wrap around me with the speed of attacking snakes and pull me in the bed, against his naked body.

“Come here, Doc” he states with a deep voice against my neck. “I need you to take care of me.”

Saying that, he pushes my pajama shorts down with one hand, keeping me flush against him with the other, and spreads my legs. I place my thighs around him in a hum, letting his impatient cock gently brush my folds.

He pushes inside right away, but chasing love more than pleasure, and stays still a long moment inside the heat of my body, before he even starts seeking friction.

I moan in his neck, thighs trembling around him, rubbing lazily on the man I love. There is no haste, no one is going to enter this room, no one is keeping us apart or risks to spy on us…

“Dean” I whisper, rolling my hips in a way that presses so deliciously on all the good places, inside and out. 

His hands are holding my ass and the growls of the wolf resonate deep in his strong chest. He is guiding me on him, making me grind harder and harder, breathing loudly in the dark room…

My orgasm is not blazing hot lightning like some of them are, it is a series of waves on a beach, calm and enchanting, and I smile through it, letting my walls suck at him while his pulsating cock fills my core with the nectar of my one and only God.

I am a hunter.

I was locked in life and Dean Winchester freed me.

We are free.

I take off the blinding thing I have on my eyes and throw it on the backseat in a grunt.

“You know, this is ridiculous” I point at him in the rearview mirror. “It’s a one hour and 10 minutes drive and I faintly feel the sun rising on my skin on the right in the morning, I know we go due north ! Then the sun is discontinuous because of trees, so I guess a forest. And it’s a secret, obviously underground, military base, so I would say it is somewhere in those mountains that are about one hour north. You could allow me to take off this thing at least when we enter the city.”

He stares at me without any facial expression, thinks a moment, and finally answers. 

“If your intelligence becomes a problem for this case, you will be fired.”

I grunt in frustration and roll my eyes, getting out of the car with my purse to walk to my apartment building, holding back the trail of unpleasant words jostling in my head.

Entering my very tidy apartment in another grunt, I kick my uncomfortable heel shoes off of my feet and look around. Everything is at its place, everything is silent, just like I like it.

I turn on the floor lamp to have a cozy ambiance, put my jacket on the coat rack and go to the kitchen right away to find something to eat quickly, the work I still have to do is waiting. I didn’t eat anything other than coffee since this morning and I learned the hard way that working fourteen hours a day requires a little maintenance. 

Opening the empty fridge, I sigh. 

“Did you really think someone would have bought food during the day ?” I groan to myself, opening the freezer to grab one of those awful ready-to-eat meals I feed myself with since I moved in. “At least, no dishes again.”

I chuckle, realizing that I probably never used a pot , rarely even plates, since I moved in. 

While my shapeless food is in the microwave, I reach behind my back to unclasp my bra, take it off with that magic sleeve technique that most women know and pour myself a glass of wine in the only tableware I use with mugs : wine glasses.

It is 11pm, and I know my day is not really over yet. No wonder why people say my place looks like a show apartment, I don’t have time to create any mess. 

I am not allowed to take anything that is related to the Winchesters out of the base, Agent Camp made it very clear. This is national security… But I am not very good with authority.

So I unbutton my pants and take out what I have copied and hidden there : A list of every person the brothers have been seen with and their status and addresses, and a letter that a teacher wrote for the social services when Dean was fourteen that stayed unnoticed until the military computer engineer started digging everything up.

Picking from the horrible food I left on the coffee table in front of me, I go through my laptop files, looking at the pictures of Sam and Dean Winchester I have here and unfolding the teacher’s printed mail once again. 

It has been three or four times that I read this letter, but, chewing at something that was supposed to taste like fish, I read it once more, hoping my brain would somehow connect with Dean Winchester’s childhood.

“Dean Winchester’s situation is preoccupying. The fourteen years old boy is irascible, uninterested in his education, he comes to school without any belongings and rarely even brings lunch. He arrives late, looking tired and, this week, covered in bruises.

Questioned about those bruises, Dean affirms that a ghost made him fall down the stairs. It is impossible for me to understand, despite many questions, if the boy believes in his lie or if he is mocking me.

I am worried that Mister John Winchester, widow, could be overwhelmed by the education of his boys and maybe not give them a safe living environment.

I also draw your attention to the fact that the Winchester family seems to change places constantly, and we know that families avoiding social services tend to do that a lot.

Cordially.”

Covered in bruises. A ghost. The stairs ?

“Who is the ghost, Dean ?” I mutter with my mouth full. “Your mom ? Your dad’s sanity ? Were you abused by your father ? Were you already involved in violent organizations ?...”

A pen and a notebook could never replace all the files in the world to think. 

I take a note to try to resolve the ghost mystery, and next to it, three stars, to remember this seems extremely important. Then a few notes about the first impressions I had of them today.

They are both really handsome and charismatic. Most killers I have seen, even when they play regular gentlemen, have at least something slightly creepy in their aura once you look closely. But not the Winchesters.

Honestly, even if every single proof I have makes it highly unlikely, Sam looks pretty scared. But the man is tough and, if he is, I’m convinced he is not really scared of us, maybe more of being locked with himself ? 

Maybe it happened to him before ? I put two stars after this question because I can feel this is a lead I have the dig.

Dean… There is a feeling I can’t shake about him, but, for the first time I have no idea what it is. He is calm and focused. Not that he is unfazed like some sociopaths are, but like he was ready for anything, like he had nothing left to lose. And that makes him extremely dangerous…

Sam still mostly refuses to talk to me. 

He doesn’t trust himself with weighing his words, I think. And he still looks mostly worried so I make our daily interview a little shorter. 

I have a lot of questions to ask his brother, anyway. 

When the door of his cell opens, he is sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, knees up, large arms around them. The gray overall he is wearing accentuates the robustness of his skilled body. As usual, the man seems focused. 

“Hi Doc” he says without turning to me. “I love your shoes.”

“Hi Dean. Are shoes something you pay attention to ?”

I enter the room and sit on the folding chair I always take with me. Dean turns his head to me and chuckles.

“It’s not a fetish or some shit you think I have” she states with a corner smile.

“Oh, you don’t have any ?”

Something crosses his smart green eyes, he looks amused. 

“You would like to know my kinks, Doc” he winks. “Promise you won’t blush.”

“Considering the…” I open my file, like I didn’t know it by heart. “Body exhuming, the decapitation and the satanist symbols… I’m pretty sure It is not going to be my thing.”

“No, don’t worry, I don’t mix work with pleasure.”

“Work ?” I immediately ask. 

Does he consider that all of those horrors is work he has to do ? That would fit with my organization hypothesis. Or does he believe he has a mission maybe ? If the murders have to do with a cult.

He doesn’t answer my question at all so I ask another. 

“Did you already work when you were fourteen, Dean ?”

“That’s an oddly specific question, Doc” he states, watching at the wall. “Why fourteen ?”

I look at my lap and take the teacher’s letter I put back discreetly in the field this morning. 

When I bend to give the paper to him, the guard points his gun at Dean’s head, holding my shoulder to prevent my movement. 

“It’s okay” I lift my hand to the armed man “It’s okay.”

Dean frowns, and for a second, he looks between my hand and the guard. I know he could grab my arm with enough speed to get me in a threatening position, probably choking, before the guard even reacts. 

I am just counting on the fact that he will want to get information on how to escape or where Sam is before he tries something like this. I am also counting on the fact that he believes there will be more occasions like this.

“You underestimate me Doc” he states, taking the paper harshly. 

No, you are underestimating me. Like all the others always did. I am leading this. 

I sit straight again, keeping my thoughts for myself while he looks down at the paper in his hands, reading. 

“Who was that ghost ?” I ask.

“Ghosts don’t exist” he smiles, handing me the sheet back. 

“Stairs do” I take the piece of paper from his strong hand. “But were there even stairs in this event ?”

“Yep” he nods. “Big bad stairs, Doc. Don’t think too much of this, it is not what you think.”

I cross my legs, and notice he opens his hand to look at his palm.

“You know what I think ?” I ask, my eyes still glued to his massive body and focused face. 

“You think my daddy beat me up and fucked with my head enough to make me a sociopath.”

“I actually excluded the sociopath hypothesis after I first saw you.”

“I’m flattered I guess” he lets out a deep chuckle that comes from his chest. “But your job is to guess what I’m thinking, right, Doc ? What am I thinking ?”

“You are actually really focused on our discussion, because you can’t let slip anything you don’t want to. But you are very smart, and able to think of several things at the same time. Like, you are probably thinking back of that school, trying to remember the teacher that worried for you, actually moved that he did, even if he was wrong, because not many people have in your life. I think you can’t remember that man, because this kind of situation, ‘ghost pushing you down stairs’, happened too many times” I state honestly while he turns his head to stare at me. “And I think you are wondering how you will get Sam out of here, because you actually believe there is a way you can escape this. But that is a constant thought, nothing new.”

Silence fills the gray cell. 

Dean Winchester is looking at me, actually thinking of something I can’t understand at all, his puzzling mind leaving many mysteries to unravel. Is he imagining murdering me ? His gaze doesn’t seem violent at all though... 

“Am I right, Dean ?”

“We’re done for today” he grunts, making me smile in victory. 

I get up, fold my little plastic chair and walk to the door, followed by the silent guard. But just before I pass it, I turn my head to him again. 

“It was Mister Hannigan, a physics teacher in Missoula, Montana. Black man, tall, with glasses” I say before I finally leave. 

I’m buried deep in another part of the Winchesters case. There are so many aspects to it., beside from all the murders, grave desecrations and police reports. 

This part is about their lives, or more so what is around it. Which people they see, the fact that Sam went to school on a scholarship and the sudden disappearances of both men.

I sigh and think back to the conversation I had with Dean yesterday, he was annoyed that I was able to guess what was on his mind. Or maybe it frightened him, that I was able to look through his facade. It always has the effect on people, murderers and friends alike… 

Dean is a man of many masks. But I am trained to see beyond them. My college friends used to mock me, calling me Sherlock… And since I have met Dean Winchester, I can’t shake the feeling that I have found my Moriarty…

I shake my head a little to focus on the files in front of me.

Bobby Singer, born 1950 and died in 2012, from a gunshot wound to the head. The medical report states Dean and Sam claimed the body. Do they have a ritual with their dead ? They claimed their father’s body too.

Bobby had a house in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. It was a place the Winchesters were often seen, up until 2011 when it burned down under suspicious circumstances.

Bobby was a close friend to the Winchesters, he was much older, four years older than John. The man also had a substantial file with the cops. Similar to the Winchester’s one.

No doubt that mister Singer was in the same business, in the same cult maybe. Was he their mentor ? Aside from John ? Did Bobby Singer introduce John to this organization ?

Maybe I should consider reaching out to one of these people. Most names filed here are dead. Hellen Harvelle and her daughter Jo Harvelle, deceased. Ash Tonish, deceased. Jimmy Novak, deceased or missing.

And Celeste Middleton, who was later recognized by at least three visual witnesses under the name Charlie Bradburry…

The biggest mystery around the Winchesters brothers is probably the way they seem to bring people back to life. Several interrogated witnesses claim to have seen them with Jimmy Novak, and even Mary Winchester…

What if they were never dead but dragged in this cult ? What happened to them ?

I rub my face. Whatever this is, the big picture seems to be, I am starting to comprehend it, probably the biggest I have ever faced.

Everyone they know is dead, or at least declared dead, except for two people : Jody Mills and Donna Hanscum. Both officers of the law. 

Do they have ties to the police ? I doubt they bribe them, they don’t seem to  have that kind of money. 

I sigh and make a little note to maybe contact either Jody Mills or Donna Hanscum should I ever get stuck. But not for now, Agent Camp said interviews with outsiders are not on the table, but maybe I could convince him.

Another part of the case contains dozens of eyewitness accounts. If someone would give me these papers with no further explanation. I would say the Winchesters are heroes.

All these accounts have the same trend :

“They saved my life.”

“We were so lucky they came, without them we wouldn’t be here.”

“They were the only ones that believed me, that didn’t think I was crazy.”

“They are heroes.”

That word, ‘Heroes’, keeps coming back. It doesn’t make any sense. Everywhere they go people die, people get hurt or disappear. All their friends died, and never in normal circumstances either… Yet these witnesses all state the opposite.

They are the kings of lies and manipulation, getting adored and unpunished.

With another sigh I close the file and rub my tired eyes. I look at my watch and see it is just over lunch. 

In the last few days I visited them at different hours, I noticed that Dean would be less grumpy when he had something to eat. As far as Sam is concerned it doesn’t really seem to make a difference. 

I check my recorder to make sure I have everything after leaving Sam’s cell and reset the device when I enter Dean’s.

“Afternoon, Doc” he says with that half smirk when I set foot inside. 

He’s sitting on his bed. His back against the wall and his long legs are crossed at the ankles. His arms, like often, crossed over his chest.

“Hello Dean” I put my chair down and sit. “How are you doing?”

“Peachy” he grunts. 

His eyes briefly flick over me, to the guard and then ahead to the wall.

I reach into my file and lift up an X-ray picture of his ribs. Along each rib there are little symbols carved into the bone, on his sternum four big ones fill up the length of it. The pictures date back to 2009. But their skin, according to the medical file, has no scarring.

“What are these ?” I ask as I move the paper a little to gain his attention.

His eyes briefly flick over the picture and a smirk graces his face.

“If you want pictures of me without my clothes, all you have to do is ask, Doc” he gives me a wink and resumes looking at the wall.

“Avoiding the question, Dean. I can imagine this must have hurt” I continue.

“Only a little” he shrugs as if carving symbol by symbol into bone is nothing. 

A shiver runs over my spine : What else has he endured to make this seem like nothing ?

“What shady surgeon agreed to do that to you ? And how could he carve without opening your whole chest, killing you, or at least break your bones ?”

“A very good one, Doc. Probably a better doctor than you” he lets out a low chuckle.

“Seeing that some of the symbols return and that there isn’t a pattern in it, I guess it is a language” I say before I go on. “What do they say ? Or is there a use for these ?”

“It is for protection” he says dryly.

“Protection from what?” 

He shrugs again and points his finger to the roof.

“From the government?” 

Is he pointing to the higher levels of the building, where the rest of the secret facility is ? To satellites like in some conspiracy theory ?

“No, higher, much higher, Doc” he lets out a dark chuckle.

“Heaven” I realize in a nod. “Do you believe in Heaven, Mister Winchester ?”

“Do you, Doc?” he turns his head to me, and looks straight into my eyes. 

I see a simmering icy rage in those green orbs. Not for me, but for what we are discussing.

“I don’t” I say honestly. 

I never was religious, with the things I have seen, you simply can’t believe someone with a higher power allows these horrors to happen.

“Why would you seek protection from Heaven ? It is paradise” I frown. “People usually try to protect themselves from Hell.”

“Heaven is a pain in my ass” he grunts but holds my gaze as he continues. “Tell me Doc, have you ever seen things you can’t explain ? People going mad for no reason, people dying in mysterious circumstances, never felt that chill down your back with a feeling like you’re being watched ?”

“Are you asking me if I believe in ghosts, Mister Winchester ?” the rage that was in his eyes just before is gone, replaced by something that I can only describe as determination.

“In a way, yes.”  

“I do not. Do you ?” I ask him.

“Of course I do” he moves to swing his legs over the side of his bed and plants his feet on the ground. 

A movement that pulls the attention from the guard who is now standing beside me. I put my hand up to him to sign that it is okay. 

“Only a fool doesn’t believe in them” he is looking straight at me, a hint of a smile on his face.

“So I am a fool then ?” I ask while keeping my hand up to the guard. 

If he interupts now, Dean won’t talk more about this, after only a week of interviews, such sincerity about his beliefs is unhoped for.

“Maybe, maybe not, sheltered, for sure. But you’re smart. I’m sure you can figure it out on your own” he smirks at me and moves to lay back down on his bed. 

“I need my beauty sleep, Doc. I need to stay handsome for when I get out of this dump” he folds his hands behind his head and closes his eyes, not waiting for me to leave.

Sheltered ?

I stop my recording device and stand up, taking my chair while leaving his cell.

“You’re impatient, Doc.”

I shake my head to focus on the case and to focus on my patient, my very beautiful, dangerous patient.

“I’m fine, Dean” I sigh and sit up more in my seat, I can still feel my face glowing. 

I haven’t been able to stop blushing since I entered this cell and saw him sitting on his bed.

“Can you tell me more about this picture” I lift up a photo of Dean stabbing someone in an alley.

He leans a little closer and his eyes squint together as he inspects the picture, his green eyes moving over the paper.

“That’s a shapeshifter” he says as he points towards the victim. “You can kill them with a silver knife to the heart.”

“A shapeshifter…” I sigh and put the picture down. 

He is still perfectly constantly convinced that those things are real. Nothing in his words is incoherent or contradictory, everything fits in his very detailed story. Nothing in his body language or eyes looks like delirium, or hallucination. 

Dean Winchester is not delusional. That is something that I know for sure. I know that this hunter job he has is a real thing, for his cult anyway.

What I don’t understand is how someone could brainwash something that smart… What if I was the delusional one ? What if his reality was the real one ?

I chase those thoughts out of my head and try to keep cool as much as I can, even if my mind seems to be lost for good.

Putting the picture away, I intend to try a different approach but he interrupts me. 

“Why are you blushing so hard, and you keep glancing at my hands.”

“I am not glancing at your hands” I say in a defensive tone. 

Really nothing slips him by…

“You are, and not even in a subtle way” he chuckles, his eyes moving over my body and I can feel my face glowing harder under his gaze.

“You’re pretty when you blush, Doc” his voice doesn’t hold that cocky tone, he holds my gaze as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed, right in front of me.

“Pretty?” I say and scoff.

 Where is this coming from ? Why did he say it like he meant it ?

“Yes, you are a beautiful woman. I’m liking this new side of you, all flustered and nervous.You are usually the queen of control. Did something happen ?” He smiles at me, and I can’t look away, his gorgeous green eyes encircled by those little lines makes his face so soft and peaceful.

“Nothing happened” I look down at my papers. “And there is no new side of me. We’re here to talk about you.” 

“You might be here to study me, but I’m doing the same, Doc. I have plenty of time. I know that you are very organized, but lately you have been busy, or something happened. Because your folder is getting messier and messier with every interview.”

I look down at my yellow folder and see all the paper and colorful notes popping out from the sides and bottom. Many pages are wrinkled and dog eared.

“They aren’t forcing you right ? You’re not in trouble ?” he asks with genuine concern.

I lift my eyes and see his very honest bright eyes, I can see the worry shining in them. I am supposed to be his enemy, yet he seems worried for me.

“I am alright, Dean” I give him a gentle smile.

It feels nice, more than nice, to have this big strong wolf worry over me. This man is considered one of the most dangerous people in the United States of America, but when he acts protective, I feel untouchable. Is it because deep down I feel safe around him ? Is it because I know nothing can stop him ?

I should not like it at all, because it means that perhaps our relationship is moving towards a line that can not be crossed… And I feel my professionalism dying.

“Good, I can’t have my favorite person here disappear on me. You are the only good thing I have” his eyes go down and his sentence ends in a little murmur. “You are the only one that treats me like a human being. And I trust you because you seem to believe in justice and dignity.”

My heart breaks a little for him, for what he has to endure day in and day out. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Dean” I reassure him, even though I shouldn’t. 

I can’t stop myself from throwing him a little rope called hope, because I will not let them slaughter him like a rabid dog, and I am not leaving him alone to people that seem as barbarian as the killers they condemn.

He lifts his head and gives me a little smile that makes my stomach flip with the doubts I am drowning in lately.

“Do you have someone ?” he suddenly asks.

“What ?” I frown at his question.

“Like a boyfriend or something ?” he tilts his head a little and his eyes move down to my hands, is he looking for a wedding ring ?

“I can’t answer that, Dean” I tell him honestly. “And you really don’t need to know.”

“So there is ? I won’t kill him or anything you think I could do, I am just curious about you, about the person behind the Doc” he shrugs a little, his body language is open, not a hint of aggression or hate in him, just curiosity and care.

I shake my head a little in a ‘no’. I can’t tell him anything about me, about my life. It is rule number one. Giving him insight about me is dangerous and, once again, highly unprofessional.

“A cat ? A dog ?” he tries again. “No, you work too much. I bet you have that kind of tidy apartment with furniture you chose in a magazine and never use.”

“That is really none of your business, and useless for your case.”

“I don’t care about my case” he states seriously. “Like I said, if they don’t kill me, something else will. I just want to know you a little better Doc, because it has been a very long time since I have met someone so fair and smart. You know that is incredibly rare ?”

“You think the world is filled with unfair dumb people ?”

“Look around you, Doc” he smiles almost sadly. “They don’t care about the truth, they only want to get paid, and have the occasion to feel powerful by dominating men they think are monsters.”

I search his face.

“You are a killer” I remind him.

“And you are here to understand that truly, and try to protect innocent people” he answers. “If it wasn’t so much paperwork, I would have been put down in an alley.”

I sigh. He is right. That is the problem about Dean Winchester : he seems to be right a lot.

“I would love to know what you like to do to relax after working twelve hours for douches that treat you like a little girl, wine ? Music ?”

I can’t help but smile softly, but don’t answer, no matter how bad I want to.

Some noise in the corridor makes me gather my thoughts again, and remember where I am. I clear my throat and realize I haven’t pressed my recorder yet, again. I never forgot to press that button, not once in all my years of interviewing patients. In a desperate attempt to lie to myself and pretend I am still doing my job, I blame it on the dream and press it and continue with our interview.

I push the pile of clothes and pizza boxes on the floor and let myself drop down on my couch, checking my phone to see the time.

3:16 AM, how do people manage a normal sleeping schedule ?

I tug the blanket over me and roll on my side, I move so that I am pressed to the back of the couch, savoring the comfort of feeling the soft cushion pressed into me, like something was holding me.

Sleep won’t come. Everytime I close my eyes I can see the dissapoint in Dean’s eyes when I didn’t answer any of his questions.

I hate that I couldn’t, it is a side of Dean he hides so well under all the snarky remarks and deflective humor. He showed interest, he let me look beyond that mask of faked boredom.

I wanted to tell him, I wanted to talk to him so much. To tell him how life has been rough on me, how I was called a freak probably even more often than him. That I had a phase during my teenage years when I wanted to be a boy, just to be taken more seriously, how hard I had to fight, how different I always felt ; like he could be the first to truly understand. I wanted to tell him that I seem to never really bond with people… Except with him.

How I wish he would open up more like that too, to look at me with those bright, honest green eyes, to show me that beautiful honest smile. The more I think of his smiling face, the deeper I get lost in the maze that is Dean Winchester.

I rub my face and sigh. He was right about my appartement, and about everything and now I want him to look inside this place and tell me that he understands. I don’t want to be alone…

I have always felt safe in loneliness but not now, the void growing in my heart is craving for…

Him ?

I miss him… 

My eyes widen, I actually miss Dean Winchester ! 

I miss my patient who decapitated people, dug graves and tried to murder the President of the United States…

I’m in too deep, I haven’t dared to admit it to myself, but I like him, I like him way more than a doctor should like her patient. I like him in a way that should wreck me with guilt, but doesn’t feel that bad. I have officially lost my mind. It is so wrong, but it feels so good.

I have feelings for Dean Winchester.

I am fucked…

I knock, and immediately regret it.

Being here could be the end of my career ; who knows, I could even get serious charges against me.

I have to be careful because even if I crossed the line, even if I have those forbidden feelings for Dean Winchester that push me deep in illegality in the name of truth… I can’t risk letting my judgment get so blurred that I would give information that could get a dangerous man free.

The door opens and a pretty short haired woman opens the door.

“Can I help you ?” she asks. 

“Jody Mills ?”

“Yes ?” she opens the door a little more.

“I am here about Dean Winchester.”

“Really ?” she steps to the side to let me enter. “Have you heard of him ? We are looking for him.”

I have no idea what I was expecting, but surely not a nice, very normal home. She guides me to her kitchen and offers me a seat.

“No” I lie. “I am looking for him too. I heard you know him pretty good.”

She gives me a little sad smile, and sits too.

“I wish I could send you to him, I wish I could send a lot of people to him” she rubs her face. “Everything is going to hell without Sam and him…”

“Really ?” she seems so sincere, so concerned, not only about them but also for the entire world, like it was resting on their shoulders. “I have to say I was a little afraid to go to him, he seems a little scary.”

“Scary ?” she smiles. “Dean is a teddy bear, Sweetie, and if you have the kind of problem he deals with, no one can help better. But I can find another hunter to help you.”

“So hunters are really a thing ?” I try, trying to keep a naive tone.

“Oh yeah, and Sam and Dean are the best of them” she says naturally. “I have no idea how we will do without them if they never come back.”

Why do I almost feel guilty ? Like I was the one keeping him for myself, like I was the one keeping him locked, like I believed in everything she was saying…

“I have to admit… I am a little skeptical about all those supernatural things, ghosts and all” it is the first thing I say that is entirely sincere.

“Yeah, we are all like this at first, and then…” she sighs, not finishing her sentence.

“How did you meet Dean ?”

“Like most people” she smiles. “He saved my life. So why don’t you tell me why you were looking for him so I can help you ?”

Just when I was about to answer, using something I saw in a file about receiving calls from dead people, the door opens and, before any of us can see who enters, a feminine voice starts talking. 

“Jody ? I had a vision, a woman is going to visit about receiving calls from her dead dad and ask for Dean, but I already had a vision of her in an offic-” she stops when she enters the kitchen and sees us already together. 

My eyes are locked on her, my heart stopped, strangled with doubt. 

How could this young woman know all of this, and what was she going to say about my office ? Could she know things that I am hiding ?

“Hi Patience” Jody says. “Meet…”

“Y/n” I say with an awkward smile. “Y-you see the future ?”

The beautiful black young woman looks at me with a frown before she answers with a warry tone. 

“Sometimes” she says, her eyes are taking me in. 

What if she could read my mind right now ?

“How ?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“Born like this, can’t really explain it” she shrugs nonchalantly.  “Who are you ?”

“Her name is Y/n, she’s here for a case” Jody answers for me.

I can’t help but stare at this young woman, ‘born like this’, she has no reason to lie about it. And she knew I was asking for Dean while I never saw her before.

Is it all true ? Could it be all true ?

“Hey Y/n” Jody waves her hand before my face. “Are you okay, Sweetie ? You are really pale.”

“I just… I didn’t believe in magic s-stuff and…”

The sheriff asks the young woman to leave us and moves to sit closer to me. There is something deeply reassuring about her, motherly almost. She takes my hand and smiles kindly, searching my face.

“It is all overwhelming but there are good people here to protect us from the bad guys, Y/n” she states. “Tell me about your dead dad calling ? You have to understand it is certainly not him.”

“So everything is true ?” I feel cold sweat run down my back. “Angels and all ?”

She nods and pats my hand.

My mind is going a thousand miles. My heart is pounding in my painful chest. Could it be that I was so sheltered all those years ? I thought I was able to see a little more hidden details than most people and now I realize that I never knew anything…

Sheltered.

Dean was right.

“I…” I am dizzy and my whole body hurts with how contracted it suddenly is. “I need to know more.”

“It is a dark path, Y/n” she states.

“It is the only path” I mutter. “I can’t go back to lies, please…”

I look at Dean’s door and stay here, completely still, for a second. 

Nothing will ever be the same now. The earthquake that just wrecked my life broke all my defenses, all my certainties, all the comfort I had hardly built…

I have seen more devastating truths during the last three days than I thought I could handle, because once your eyes are open, you can see all of it. 

I called Sanchez and Camp, pretending to be really sick to skip a day or two because, honestly, I was unable to pretend, to wear my suits and walk with my chin high. It was not even totally a lie, because I did faint a few times in the middle of my chaotic apartment, and puked more than once…

My hands are shaking, and my trembling lips are still tingly since my blood stopped running, when Jody Mills showed me the actual vampire she had been hunting.

I look at the taser in my hand and realize I thought of taking it to pretend but forgot the recorder.

The guard looks at me from the end of the corridor, I have been standing here for way too long for it not to be suspicious, it is time to move. 

I open the door and, when I do, Dean immediately gets up, taking a step closer to me but stopping right away, probably thinking that I will use the taser on him.

“Doc” he frowns and tries to catch my eyes after I close the door. “Shit I was worried ! Y-you didn’t show up for three days !”

I look at him, at the nobility of his allure, at his bright eyes I dream of every night… I think of my life that is crumbling and get lost again in the confusion that is harassing me. I feel the horrible grip of anxiety crush my heart again, making my eyes water.

“Oh Sweetheart…” Dean sighs. “I told you not to dig.”

I open my mouth but nothing comes out. 

And that is when he moves… I see him though the burry veil before my tired eyes. He takes three more steps and cautiously wraps his huge arms around me protectively.

A few days ago, I would have panicked, tased him and called for help, convinced that those murderous hands could only break me… But I put my weary head on his chest and close my eyes.

“It will be okay, Doc” he whispers. 

I take in his heavenly smell and focus on the strength of his body holding mine. It feels like an angel had closed its wings around me, easing the pain and the fear instantly, putting me together so easily. 

I fist the taser hard and let my tears fall on his gray prisoner outfit, unable to speak, entirely focused on all of him, on his big hands flattening on my back, on the smell of his neck and the grumbling of his voice…

Dean. 

Dean.

Dean.

Nothing else matters.