#samulet

summary: dean threw his amulet away years ago. little does he know that you've kept it after all this time. word count: 590 pairing: dean winchester x reader notes: it's always annoyed me when dean put the amulet in the bin </3

⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧

Dean threw the amulet away 3 years ago.

And you’ve kept it, after all this time.

Dean’s probably forgotten by now—never told you why he decided to get rid. But you never asked. You didn’t need to know. It was clearly a vulnerable topic.

It wasn’t about the memories, not at first. It was because he had thrown it away. The man who wore it for years, who carried it with him hunt after hunt, letting it slip from his neck. Discarded like a broken piece of himself. It had always been him and that amulet—a reminder of Sam, his family, the life that he fought so hard to protect.

So you kept it. Not out of some misplaced hope that he’d want it back, but because you couldn’t bear the thought of it being forgotten entirely. It wasn’t just a necklace; it was a part of Dean.

You kept it in a small box tucked deep in your bag. Not because you were hiding it, but because you think Dean will appreciate it one day. Appreciate the fact that you’ve kept it all this time.

He’s been different lately. Soft. Not weak—just soft. Like he’s let his guard down, instead of wallowing in his own bravado. He’s been looking at Sam like he’ll never get another chance. At you like he’s finally seen how long you’ve been standing beside him.

Tonight, you all decided to crash in some motel off the I-70, and all you can think about is that damn box.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

You shuffle through your bag, taking the box as Dean watches you intently. “What’s that?” He asks, and you open the lid toward him, the tarnished gold glints in the lamplight.

Dean doesn’t say anything, he just stares. His throat works around something he doesn’t say. “You threw it away,” you begin, “and I figured, y’know…” you finish gently, and he furrows his brows.

He just stares. Like it’s a ghost. Like it’s something sacred and cursed all at once.

Slowly, Dean sits up on the edge of the bed, taking the box from your hand and examining it for himself. His thumb runs over the amulet once, a sigh escaping his throat. “Damn,” he laughs, “thought this’d never see the light of day.”

Time scuffed, aged, and wore the amulet’s exterior, but its meaning remains fresh, as if renewed. You just watch him as he collects his thoughts. He shakes his head lightly in disbelief. “Back then, everything was falling apart. Sam, Dad, me… It felt like I was carrying a lie.” He looks at you, a glimmer in his eye. “I didn’t know what anything meant anymore.”

He glances down at the floor, then back up at you. “But you held on to it anyway.”

“It felt wrong to leave it. It feels like it’s a part of you, Dean. I couldn’t leave that behind.”

He doesn’t hesitate this time. He pulls the chain over his head, letting the amulet settle against his chest, right where it used to sit. The familiar weight grounds him.

“I’m not takin’ it off again,” he says, final and quiet. “Not this time.”

An smile creeps up on your face, and he smiles back. “Are you sure?”

“As sure as I can be,” he says, “because you brought it back. It means something more now, Y/N. It has to.”

I want both of them to know this is the right moment, if there's ever a "right moment" to suggest incest. both of them have stopped pretending Dean isn't dying or that they aren't scared. they're not trying to tease or pick a fight or pretend that their christmases as kids were anything more than what they were

Dean keeps pushing the little horns on the amulet into his chest and Sam watches him. wants to do it for him and press hard enough that the bruise it leaves will still be on Dean when Sam has to wash and dress his body

Sam wants to put his tongue in Dean's mouth and his hand down Dean's pants and he's wanted that for as long as he can remember but there's something different between them tonight that makes him feel like Dean might actually let him get away with it

Dean sees him watching and assumes Sam is still stuck in the wretched reality of having a whole year to mourn before the real hurt comes. he could comfort Sam, could kiss Sam, could lie overtop of him and protect him from everything that isn't them