#readerxdean

It had been 3 months at this point since your little bundle of Winchester joy was born. Dean was honestly a fantastic father to your baby. It brought out perhaps the best in him, even on the worst days. It was a learning experience of course, for all of you living at the bunker. Your 6 week postpartum checkup went just fine. Your birth was a bit more traumatic, however. Baby decided to be difficult, medicine and IVs, stitches - you name it. And of course, your stomach was still slightly engorged. You had gone up a pant size at least. Your hair was always a mess, up in a bun or unwashed. It had been a long time since you felt like you, and Dean could tell that this was the case. He had said to you that you should have dinner, just the two of you. Sammy could watch the baby. You were very hesitant that your brother-in-law could manage the baby but within the weeks following that conversation, he proved himself capable if only for an hour, maybe two. 

You and Dean headed out, just downtown for a bite to eat. He had a beer and you had a diet soda. But, you both had your favorite meals for dinner and had a wonderful bonding experience. Dean smiled at you like he used to, and you felt like you again, even just for a moment, as he gazed upon you. Then it hit you - the crippling anxiety of knowing that you don’t look the same under your clothes that you once did. Your body had changed, and you didn’t look the way you wanted anymore, or how Dean remembered you to look. 

Your eyes dropped to the table and your hand went to your neck. “Maybe we should head home?”, you said softly. 

Dean could sense the discomfort and felt sad for just a moment before he took your other hand, “We can if you want to but I am enjoying our time, I want you to know that,” he said with a soft smile. 

You nodded and squeezed his hand in which he squeezed back. Then, he exhaled, “Well, I guess we can get back home and see squirt and Sammy before bedtime, then maybe we could…continue our date when it’s bedtime?”  You nodded. You weren’t quite sure what that meant, but you could take a guess. Dean stood up, putting out a hand to help you up out of the booth you were sitting in and left money, plus a tip, on the table. He put his coat around your shoulders and took your hand, interlacing your fingers, as you went to the car.

Dean gave your forehead a gentle kiss before he opened the passenger side of the Impala as you both then headed home. Ever the gentleman.

The drive, while silent, was comfortably silent. A gaze and a hand hold, a smile, and a chuckle. But you couldn’t help but notice the absence of your little one and missed them, even though it had only been a couple of hours,

“Think they’ll be sleeping when we get back?” you ask Dean with a smile,

“Nah, that kid won't rest until hell freezes over,” Dean said with a shake of his head. Then, you both laughed softly as you pulled into the pathway of the bunker.

When the two of you got home, Sam was holding the baby to his shoulder and bouncing them gently as you walked around. Sure enough, baby was wide awake, cooing. Dean shook his head with a smile,

“Wow, Sammy, wasn’t sure if you were gonna be able to handle the little squirt! So many diapers, so little time!” Sam rolled his eyes and smiled, 

“I am not as incapable as you think, Dean. I was spat up on 5 times and had to change my shirt at least once, but here we are!” 

The three of you laughed softly and Dean walked over and took the baby into his arms. You thanked Sam for watching the baby, 

“Hey, it’s no problem, (Y/N). It was the least I could do for you - both of you!” He smiled warmly. The three of you bid your goodnights. You and Dean walked down the hall to your bedroom, with Sam watching with a smile. He was so happy that Dean had finally had his own family. Uncle duty was pretty fun for Sam too.

The baby slept in a different yet adjoining room, just in case. Dean was adamant about your baby having the adjoining room, setting it up with all the different sigils and symbols known to man to protect someone - including the enochian symbols, recommended by Castiel. The baby was much too small for it to be ingrained in their chest but at least they could be safe in their room. You had given the baby it’s before bed feed, rocked them to sleep, laid them down with a kiss to their head,

“Goodnight, our sweet angel…” you whispered and smiled. You could see so much of Dean in them that it made your heart soar sometimes. You spun around and walked back to yours and Dean’s room, closing the adjoining door almost all the way, but leaving it open a crack.

Dean was sitting on the bed as you walked in. He looked at you and you looked back at him with a blushed smile, 

“What?” you asked, walking over to your vanity. You grabbed a couple makeup wipes to begin deconstructing the makeup on your face. It was just a little bit of mascara and eyeliner and a lip color. Dean came up behind you and put his arms around your midsection and looked at you in the mirror as you took your makeup off. You felt yourself tense up a bit when his arms enveloped you, but finished taking off the makeup,

“You’re beautiful, you know…” he said to you softly. You looked down with a half smile and put your hands on his arms,

“Thank you, honey,” you said softly, still not looking at yourself in the mirror with Dean around you. He leaned in and kissed your head..then your cheek…then your ear…then your neck. It wasn’t aggressive, it was a tender and loving set of kisses. You pressed your body into his. They were wonderful - but there was a block within you. You could feel it. Just then, you leaned away from Dean quickly. Dean frowned a bit but could tell something was bothering you, majorly.

“Y/N…,” he said softly, “Why don’t you look at me?” he asked you. You crossed your arms and turned around, still not really looking at him. Dean put his hands gently on your arms,

“Talk to me, darlin’,” he said, keeping you in place, almost begging with his eyes for you to speak to him. You exhaled, not even knowing where to start. You shuffled your feet and kept your gaze down and looked at the corner of the floor, trying to find anything to keep your attention and avoid looking up at him,

“I just…I feel awful in my new skin, Dean. I feel…I feel the worst I’ve ever felt.” you said softly to him, “I mean, I know you can tell I don’t exactly look the same before I had the baby, right? I don’t fit into any of my favorite jeans, my bras need extenders, I’m still so jiggly, and my hair - I get to wash it maybe twice a week! I mean, I am not exactly…what you fell in love with…”. You felt your eyes well and you closed them. Dean nodded earnestly and pulled you into him slowly, putting his chin on your head. You nuzzled into his chest, inhaling his scent while you sniffled.

“It’s okay, baby, I’m here,” he said, giving your hair a stroke. He held you for a moment before he pulled you from him and put his index finger and thumb under your chin, lifting it up slightly, 

“Why don’t you look at me?” He asked softly. You hesitated for a moment but your eyes peer up at him,

“It’s hard,” you said softly, “I just… love you so much, obviously, while all my love is going to the baby, and I have none left for me it feels like…” you said sadly. Dean lifted one corner of his mouth into a slight smile,

“I knew you were feeling down about yourself…I wanted to take you out so you could just take it easy…and hopefully, maybe feel like yourself,” he explained, “And…I’ve missed you,” he says. Dean knew what you were feeling was so complex, and that he had to mostly drown his desires for you, at least for now,

“But, (Y/N), you are wonderfully beautiful to me,” he said sincerely. Your mouth dropped open slightly. Dean was not always known to be the sappiest person. This sincerity and mush was a shock, but it was wholly welcomed when he gave it to you. He continued,

“This is even more evident by the fact that you made an entire HUMAN! It took me, what, 5 minutes to do what I needed to do? It took you a whole 9 months,” he moved his hands to your hips,

“I don’t even care what you wear, (Y/N). You could wear one of my flannels and spit-up covered sweatpants and I would still feel the same about you,” he pulled you closer,

“I love you, (Y/N) and you gotta know that,” he said. 

You were overwhelmed with emotions from all over the spectrum. You wanted to cry but you wanted to smile. You wanted to laugh but you wanted to get on top of him, all at once. However, all you could muster was a bit of a gasp and a muffled, “I love you too,” as you kissed his lips like never before. The two of you kissed while he walked you back to the bed and laid on top of you, continuing to kiss you. Then, one thing led to another between the two of you. It was rather quick as it was your first time together in a long time, however, it was nonetheless passionate.

Though Dean had to get up at 1 AM to give your sweetie another bottle, he managed to get them back to sleep without much hassle afterwards and came back to bed. Later in the morning, around 7 AM, you woke up fully. Dean’s arms were around your midsection and face nuzzled into your neck and hair. You pulled his hand up to your lips and gave it a peck, and he gave your shoulder a peck back. You smiled, settling into the curve of his body. However, this didn’t last long, as the baby began crying, ready to start the day. Dean exhaled through his nose, 

It was an everyday occurrence for you to wonder how you got so lucky, being with a man like Dean. It wasn't just his incredibly good looks that made him so special. He was strong, so strong, and smart as a whip. You felt so safe with him, even though he was always worried for your safety in even the least dangerous situations. And yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you didn’t deserve him; that there was someone out there who was better for him, someone prettier, smarter, skinnier, stronger.

“Sweetheart,” a gruff, angelic voice spoke, breaking you from your thoughts. You hadn’t realized that you were lost in your mind. “What’s on your mind?”

Dean had put the book down, a cloud of dust emitting from it as it hit the table. His entire attention was on you now, and you still weren’t used to his gaze. His emerald eyes scanned your face, and you felt your cheeks get hot, your brain searching for a lie.

“I-I don’t know, I just…” you swallowed hard, at a loss for words.

“Tell me,” he said definiantley, but in the softest way possible. Dean had a way of getting your deepest darkest secrets out of you, with just a glance. His arms were crossed now, and he was leaning back in his chair. The veins in his forearms were protruding, and visions of him doing push-ups in his room made you almost choke.

Taking a deep breath, you stood up from your chair, turning away from him. You began to pace, thinking of the right words to say. As you turned around, he was suddenly there, taking your hands in his. They were so large; calloused from hard work yet so soft. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest that your pulse thumped in your ears.

“Hey,” he coaxed, taking your chin between his fingers and forcing you to look at him. “Talk to me.”

“I…” you started, choking back the tears that were threatening to spill. How could you show weakness to a man who was always so sturdy. “I’m not good enough for you.”

You had finally spilled it out, the words you’d been thinking for months but never said out loud. They hung in the air for a few seconds, Dean’s expression contorting into one of confusion.

“Why would you say that?”

“I’m not… strong like you. I’m not pretty, I’m not smart, I’m not… good enough for you.”

The tears started to fall now, hot streams streaking your cheeks. Dean stared at you, almost shocked, unsure what to do. With his large hand he cupped your head and brought it to his broad chest. Your arms wrapped around his waist and squeezed, as if he might disappear at any second; as if him being even this close to you was too good to be true.

“Shhhh,” he whispered, as he let you cry, stroking your hair. His hand moved down to your lower back, and he started to sway with you, doing everything he could to calm you down. It felt good to let this emotion out. Since you met Dean, you’d been putting on such a tough facade, trying to impress him; trying to prove to him you could be a hunter just like him. After what felt like an eternity, Dean spoke.

“You’re wrong you know,” he said, pulling you away from him. Your tears had left wet marks on his hunter green t-shirt.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” you sniffled, wiping your nose on your sleeve.

“I definitely am not,” he replied quickly, arching his eyebrow. “You are the most beautiful, strong minded, smart, vivacious woman I have ever met.” You scoffed, still unable to accept it. He squeezed your shoulders.

“Before I met you, my life had no meaning. I never in my entire life thought I would meet a woman who would accept me, for me; for my job, for everything that comes with it. After everything that’s happened, everything we’ve been through in the past couple of months, you’ve never left. Anyone else would have gone runnin’.”

“I just…”

“Come on,” he urged. “Tell me.”

“I… l-love you so much. I… have so much love for you. I--”

He sat down on the table and let you continue. You were shaking, your nerves getting the better of you.

“I would literally take a bullet for you, several bullets, and that scares me. I’ve never felt for anyone else what I do for you. And we’ve only known each other for such a small window of time, and I feel like that’s so stupid, and I’m just a stupid girl with a stupid crush on a man who will ditch me when I’m of no use to him anymore.”

After your word vomit stopped, Dean stood in front of you again. Without another word, he peeled his flannel off of your shoulders, which you hated to admit you hadn’t taken off in upwards of three days, and placed it around the back of the nearest chair. You were wearing a tank underneath, and he placed two soft kisses on each of your shoulders. His lips moved to your neck, leaving a fiery trail to your jaw. He continued his torturous kisses until he reached your lips, leaving one, passionate mark there.

“I love you,” he said with such certainty your heart ached. “I love you for who you are, not for who you wish you could be. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, and I’d be more than happy to show you.”

And with that, Dean took your hand and led you to the bedroom; your heart was racing as your mind anticipated what he had in store for you.

@spookygibson @xtina2191 @jayankles @kayteonline @jessikared97 @salvachester @aubreystilinski @mecca814 @msgreenverse @jalovewecallhimdean @shut-ur-face-and-get-in-the-car

A loud laugh resounded through the bunker walls.

Sam's.

He clutched his chest as he heard Dean's plan. Never had he heard something so ridiculous coming from Dean. It was so out of character for Dean to do the things he spoke of.

‘You're serious!’ Sam exclaimed, calming down from his laughing fit. ‘Wait, wait, wait. Tell me again what you're going to do.’

Dean’s face was a little flushed; a pink tinge on his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

Forgetting about his little brother being a little shit, Dean adjusted his flannel and confidently stood to his full height. (Although it didn't make a difference to the younger, six foot four Winchester. He was still taller than Dean.)

Dean cleared his throat then proceeded to tell his brother his plan in less detail than the first time.

‘No hunts. Breakfast in bed. Nice relaxing bath with rose petals and that smelly stuff she likes.’ He waves a hand around in the air as he continues. His hand gestures a comical thing when he's like this. A mixture of nervous, excited and he thinks he's either going to pee or mess this up. ‘Whatever the hell she wants to do for a few hours, we may need you to leave for that. Once all the fun is done and dusted.’ He winks and lowers his voice. ‘Candle lit dinner at a fancy ass restaurant.’

He's excited for something. Sam can tell by the smile that's growing on his face, he's practically been beaming from ear to ear ever since he rolled out of bed. Sam just can't put his finger on why. He's never seen Dean in such a giddy mood but he likes it, he's happy that his brother is happy because when they live the life they do happiness is a little far fetched. The world rests on their shoulders but suddenly, especially today. Was it her birthday? Did he forget the date?

Sam squinted at his brother, deciding to give him a little bit of a hard time. They wouldn't be brothers if they didn't torment each other now, would they?

‘This is a little romantic for a random date though, isn't it?’

‘Aha!’ The little dork interrupted a little too late. ‘That Sammy, is where you are wrong. It's not just a random date. It's the going to be the best day of her and my life so far.’ He smiled and nodded, not giving away any more to his brother. ‘As for romantic? Yeah. It's kinda my thing.’

Dean left the younger Winchester bewildered. He patted Sam on the shoulder and asked if he could move out of the way so he could make a start on the breakfast that sure to start the day right.

Sam shook his head at his overly enthusiastic brother. Cooking his own breakfast, before ten, was a novelty and was pretty sure that it wasn't  going to happen anytime soon or if the occurrence was to happen again, it wouldn't be for Sam, only her.

Only ever for her.

Fifteen minutes had passed when Dean was plating up the last of the breakfast extravaganza. It might have been enough to feed an army but he only wanted the best for his girl.

Wiping the sweat of his brow and forehead, he admired his handiwork and thanked whatever cooking god there was upstairs that this had came out right and not burnt.

But he wasn't done, not yet.

He mentally ticked off the items on his to do list.

He still needs to find the last component - well two components - to complete the first stage of this special day that only he knew about.

From the cupboard, he pulled out the vase that held the two flowers that reminded him of you. Half a dozen calla lilies mixed with half a dozen pink carnations.

They weren’t your favourite, no. Your favourites were reserved for your birthday and when he had royally screwed up and was trying to win you over. These flowers are the ones that Dean would compare to you. The calla lilies symbolising magnificence and beauty.

Dean was pretty sure you had bewitched him from the beginning, your beauty mesmerising him and gripping on tight, never letting go.

The pink carnations. When he searched them up, he found that they meant the love of a woman. He couldn’t have found anything more fitting for the love of his life. He hadn’t said it all the time but when he did, you could feel it and even when he didn’t you could tell he meant it through the little things he did. The touches, the smiles, the forehead kisses, the kisses he gives every inch of available skin to him. He does it all, and you catch every single one of them, but you hadn’t caught onto his nervousness yesterday. He had never loved a woman quite as much as he had loved you.

With the plate on a tray and the vase arranged so it wouldn’t fall over when h   e brought it to you. He picked it up and balanced it in his hands, making his way to the room that the two of you shared.

Pushing the tray against the frame of the door so he could twist it open, he walked in and a smile instantly grew on his face.

You hugged his pillow to your chest, your face buried in the place where he had been laying – his scent strong. You looked so peaceful that he almost felt bad for waking you, almost.

To be on the safe side he carefully put the food tray on the chest of drawers next to the bed you lie on.

Folding a leg under himself, he sat on the edge of the bed, sweeping your hair out of your face and scraping his thumb over your lip before he leaned down and planted a soft sweet kiss on your lips.

Groaning, your leg shook out of the sheets and hooked it over what you could only assume was Dean, pulling him in closer and snuggling into him, albeit a little awkwardly.

He sat up slowly, not wanting to ruin the moment but wanting to move on with the day and get it on track.

Dean got you to sit up with your back against the headboard, where he would hand you your breakfast and explain what the flowers meant getting a few tears from you and a few more kisses which you had both got a bit too carried away with it.

Dean had Sam run you a bath, all the instructions left on the piece of paper where the taller Winchester could easily see. Once he was done, Sam walked passed and discreetly nodded his head and left you and Dean to it.

It was about an hour later when you and Dean had emerged from the bathroom, although at the beginning you were relaxed, it was Dean who thought it was a good idea to give you a massage which led to some pretty lewd moans. You’d flopped onto the bed with Dean in a tangle of limbs but laughter had bubbled up and you couldn’t help but trace the happy crinkles around his eyes that only appeared when he was truly happy.

‘You love me?’

‘Yeah, Y/N, I do.’

‘I can tell you’re happy, I just don’t know why.’ You bit your lip in confusion, he was acting very strangely today.

His brow furrowed and he scoffed as if that was the most ridiculous thing that you had ever said/

‘What are you talking about? I’m happy because I’m with you, ya weirdo.’ His fingertips stroked against your cheek before he dipped his head lower and lower, his lips once again slanting over yours. He was happy because today was going to be, what he hoped was, the best day of your life. Starting after you got out of bed; two hours later.

When Dean told you he was taking you to a fancy restaurant - not the regular greasy food diners - you couldn't help but panic a little. You couldn't even remember going to a place that nothing more than the basic cutlery. What on earth were you going to wear?

He assured you that the lace covered, navy blue evening dress would do the trick.

Whilst you were sorting out the straps of your heels, Dean had entered the room. He simply took your breath away.

His legs were clad in a navy blue suit pants, a white button down with an untied tie hanging from his neck and a matching suit jacket folded other arm.

He was making such an effort for you, you didn’t know you could love him more than you did but in an instant, you did, you fell deeper and deeper in love with him. It was like you meeting for the first time and falling in love all over again.

‘Well, young man.’ You cooed. ‘Don't you look deliciously dashing.’

Dean tipped his head down in thanks and in shyness. He threw his jacket on the back of the chair and moved to stand behind you, his arms winding around your stomach and pulling your back towards his chest. The heat of his body radiating against you - one of the perks of having a hot boyfriend.

More ways than one to be hot. And he was both.

Tilting your head back, you kissed his stubbled jaw and leaned your forehead against his temple.

‘Love you.’ He whispered, the movement of his jaw making his whiskers tickle your skin.

Humming, you responded with the same sentiment, equally as quiet but loud enough to speak volumes.

He kissed you once more before checking his watch and telling you it was time to go before you'd miss the reservation.

In the impala, your fingers intertwine together in the middle of you before he brought your hand to his lips where he could kiss the back of it.

The two of you drove in a comfortable silence until you arrived at the restaurant.

Too excited to wait for him to open the door like he promised, you hopped out of the car and rushed to his side where you could bathe in the pretty lights surrounding the entrance.

Like the gentleman he was, he pulled out a chair for you to sit down.

‘Thank you, Dean. I'm not complaining because the whole day has been pretty freaking amazing but so you mind of I ask why? I mean you already got me so you don't have to try and impress me anymore. It was your beautiful car that reeled me in.’

You smiled sweetly, extending your hand over the table and covering his with your own.

‘Ha ha.’ He deadpanned. ‘This is going to be an even better day if it goes to plan.’

‘Did you get me a puppy?’ Your mouth drops open over enthusiastically.

‘I'm sorry. I'm not getting you a puppy, you know they just deal everywhere and they are basically demons.’ He says with no remorse, you knew it was too good to be true to get a puppy but it was a nice try.

‘What is it?’ You giggled. ‘Did I win a secret bet? Did I say a word that made you take me out? Is this a joke?’

Dean gave out a hearty chuckle to your questions. ‘Not a joke, pretty girl. Can't I just take my beautiful girlfriend out for dinner and pamper her without any reason?’ He feigned a hurt expression. The hand that wasn't encased in your own slapped over his chest, his body hunching over as if he was in pain.

‘Such a drama queen.’ You said, rolling rolling your eyes and curling your fingers tighter around Dean's hand. ‘Can’t you just tell-’

It was at that moment that the waitress had brought over the food you had ordered.

A smug grin found it's way onto Dean's face, you knew he was happy for two reasons. One, he got his food and two, he almost let it slip. Almost told you why this day was so important to him. If it wasn't for the waitress, those big Y/E/C eyes of yours would have cracked him wide open.

Your eyes turned into slits as you narrowed your eyes at him, digging into your food.

Dean excused himself to go to the bathroom for a moment and you let him, anxious for his return.

He came back a few minutes later, unusually slow for him, you had noticed.

‘You okay, Dee?’

All his worries melted away in an instant so he smiled. This is what he loved. That you were concerned for him, that you cared for him, noticing the little things like the dimple that appeared in between his brows when he frowned or was nervous. Like right now. Nervous as hell and the tell tale sign visible.

With the smile still on his face, he reached for the red wine and took a sip of it to replenish his dry mouth. He put the distraction down and mumbled under his breath before he asked you for your hand.

Unhesitating, you placed your hand in his; palm to palm.

What puzzled you was when his hand disappeared under the table, that was until he removed whatever it was and dropped to one knee.

A nervous giggle overtook you as you felt the other customers in the restaurant begin to stare and coo at Dean's gesture.

He was a very brave man.

Thank God he had asked for your left hand, it would have been a little awkward if it was your right.

He flipped open the box to reveal a sleek, simple silver band with a sparkly diamond gleaming in the restaurants light.

‘I was scared as hell to do this because of all that romcom shit you make me watch.’ You roll your eyes but bite your lip because you know that he loves to sit down with a bag of popcorn and watch those awful movies with you. ‘The reason why I don't like them was because I can't live up ta that but I'm just gonna come out and say it. Y/N, darlin’, will you marry me?’

‘Definitely better than the romcoms that we watch because it's happening to me, to us. We're gonna be happy. Winchester does sound better than Y/L/N, though, I must admit.’

‘Come on darlin’ you're killin' me.’

‘Yes Dean! I'll marry you.’ You say, almost squealing with joy. You can't wait to spend the rest of your life with Dean Winchester, even if it may be a short life - you don't care.

Dean will be yours and you will be Dean's. Forever.

He doesn't even have time to slide the ring on your finger before you're pulling his face towards yours so you can kiss him.

You can feel him sigh against you, sag in relief as you kiss him and assure him that he never needed to be worried about you saying no.

Your emotions were bubbling over, spilling all the love you had into the kiss, you needed each other, that was all you both needed to know.

The incessant clapping of the customers breaks you and Dean apart, .

You're breathless and giddy when you pull apart, his sweet breath fans over your lips and cheeks but suddenly the realisation sets in; you're going to be a Winchester and so is your baby.

Lemme know what you think...

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__________________________________________________________

"You can stay with us for as long as you like," Dean said, and Sam nodded beside him.

His face was calm, a little rugged, a little too well-defined, but kind. You tugged at the blanket hanging around your shoulders, thankful for its warmth, and bobbed your head along with the brothers. The purr of the engine was enough of a lullaby, enough to sing you into a calm, dreamless sleep.

*

And at first, no one noticed.

Dean's eyes flickered to the Impala's rear-view mirror every now and then, although there were no cars on the flat expanse behind you. Your eyelashes fluttered in your sleep, and he couldn't help but notice the curve of your jaw, the faint ghost of a dimple at the corner of your mouth; the way your cheeks were faintly flushed and smeared with grime sparked something that combusted all the air in his lungs.

Sam coughed slightly as the Impala veered dangerously close to the middle of the road, and Dean was forced to look away.

Sam turned to look at his brother, frowning slightly, but Dean shrugged.

"'S been a long day," he said. "And Y/N sure put up one hell of a fight back there."

Sam couldn't argue. He leaned back in his seat.

"A hunter in the making?" Sam asked.

Dean's lips pinched together, and he looked back at you in the mirror.

"Could be."

*

You turned out to be a great hunter, with a little training. Soon enough, you were riding with the Winchesters on all of their hunts; the three of you quickly became hard pressed to find a case that was worthy of your newfound skills.

You'd grown accustomed to your new life, despite its less than welcoming start. After six months with the brothers, you'd even begun to seek out monsters all of your own.

Research in hand, you padded down the hallway of the bunker towards the kitchen. You had a bad feeling that some vamps were feeding in your own little adoptive town, with four recent deaths in the past three days.

You were pleased to see that Sam and Dean were sitting at the kitchen table when you entered, and you promptly dropped your stack of papers onto the food-covered surface.

"New case, I think," you said easily, smiling. "Wanted to know what you guys thought."

Sam reached for your research and so you focused on him, missing the fact that Dean was frozen mid-sip-of-coffee as he peeked at you over his cup.

The younger Winchester flicked through your work, nodding. "I was actually going to bring this up. You think it's a nest?"

You pushed your hair back from your face and shrugged, though you were pleased he agreed. "Maybe. Either way, one vamp or a few, they don't seem too smart, huh?"

Sam smirked along with you and set your papers down. Dean, forgetting to swallow the coffee in his mouth, tried to return your smile; he turned and stood up in the next second, his chair squealing against the linoleum, so that you missed the small leaking of fluid from his mouth.

He wandered over to the sink, and you looked at Sam quizzically. Since you'd met Dean, he'd never said much to you, at least not as much as Sam did. Sam shrugged at your look, but you frowned.

"Um, okay. Well, I'm going to go get ready," you said abruptly. Sam shot you a small, sympathetic smile as you stood to leave, one that you greatly appreciated, before it was all you could do not to turn heel and run from the kitchen.

Once you were gone, Sam stood up, approaching his brother looming over the sink.

"Are you all right?" it was more of a demand than a question. "What the hell was that?"

Dean stared at the dull silver drain, though he didn't really see it. He thought about the way your hair always looked so unbearably, effortlessly shiny in the morning, and how you were always smiling, even when you were talking about slaying a nest of vamps.

"Got choked up," Dean replied hastily, and followed you out of the kitchen.

*

"Agent Spencer," Dean flipped his badge out towards the cop and snapped it back up again before he could get a closer look. "That's my partner Agent Hardison, and our rookie Agent Parker." You glared at Dean. Rookie? "We're here to see the crime scene."

"It's a few days old by now," the sergeant furrowed an eyebrow. "Not sure what you'll be able to get from it."

"Right, well, thank you for bringing us anyway, Sergeant. I think we can take it from here." Sam's smooth modesty unfurled the officer's brow, despite Dean's pushing him towards the exit. Sam rolled his eyes as Dean slammed the door shut behind the sergeant.

"Rookie, Dean?" You asked, when the coast was clear. "What the--"

"Look," Dean frowned as Sam tossed him a pair of rubber gloves. "Agents don't travel in threes. And you're the newbie. Makes sense."

Without looking at you, he turned towards the living room. "What are we looking for?"

"We need to figure out why they chose to kill this couple, in this house," Sam said. "Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll have left something behind."

You nodded, bumping Dean as you strode past him into the living room. You felt his eyes on the back of your neck, but the dried blood-soaked rug demanded your attention. Carefully, you walked over and bent down beside the last trace of the massacre, ignoring the churn in your gut at the smell of rotten rust.

The brothers moved behind you: Sam scuffled through drawers, looked under the couches; Dean turned on his heel and headed upstairs. You stared at the rug.

"How long has it been, Sam?"

"Since?"

"Since these guys were killed? A few days, right?"

"Yeah. What's up?"

Sam came to stand beside you. He stared at the bloody rug.

You blinked. "Why is there still all this blood on the rug, but none around it?"

You and Sam looked at the spotlessly clean floors, despite the horrific blood splatter on the once fluffy white carpet.

"They cleaned up," Sam said. You could almost hear the pieces clicking into place in his mind. "But they--"

"--didn't move the rug," you finished.

In one too-big step, he was on the other side of the living room.

"Help me drag it over," he said. Together, you pushed the bloody mess so that the carpet rested in a pile up against the wall. You weren't surprised that the rug's more coarse underbelly didn't look much better.

The floor beneath it was stained with residual dried blood, and flecked with grime, as though someone had deliberately worn new shoes and kicked at the floor until it was properly scuffed. Closer to you, a tiny piece of paper was stuck to the floor.

As you reached down to pick it up, Dean stomped back into the living room.

"Rest of the house is clear," he said. "What's that?"

Your eyes met - just for a second - and you wanted to feel relieved. You wanted to think that he was, finally, acknowledging you; you wanted something, something to give you a sign that you weren't just the rookie, that you weren't the thing that made Dean tense or quiet or half of what you knew he was when you weren't around.

"Looks like a business card," you held it out towards him, but Sam snatched it out of your hand.

"It's for some sort of hotel," he said. "But it could be nothing."

"Research time?" You smiled; Sam nodded.

Dean was at the door first. He held it open for you and Sam.

"Nice job, rookie," he said as you passed, and the smile dried on your face like the browned blood on the fluffy white rug.

*

"Get this," Sam said. "So that business card was for a hotel, but the place went out of business last year. The buyers have been asking for way too much for the building, so it's been vacant ever since. Could be where the vamps are hiding out."

"We still don't know why they chose to kill that couple, though," you said.

Sam nodded. "I've been thinking--"

"Doesn't really matter, does it?" Dean asked. "We know where the fanged wonders are, so I say we go over there and take them out."

"We might know where they are," you said. "And it's almost dark. It would be a lot easier if we hit them tomorrow, you know, while the sun's up."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Sam quipped. He closed his laptop and stood up.

Dean stared at his brother. "We can take 'em. Hell, Y/N could probably take them out all on her own with all the crap they've been up to."

You frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Dean's eyes flicked to you, and then the floor. "I just mean that--"

"Well, I guess if even I could take 'em, what's the point of waiting?" You stood up, too. "What the hell. Let's go."

"Y/N," Sam started, but you shook your head.

"I'll go load the car," you said. Without waiting for Sam's rebuttal, you huffed and left the room.

Sam turned to Dean, who only had eyes for your retreating figure.

"You need to sort out your crap with Y/N, Dean," Sam said. "You won't look at her until she's halfway gone. I don't know what the hell happened, but you need to figure it out before she decides to be reckless all on her own."