#supernatural insert

“In the mood for anything in particular?” Dean asked, looking at you in the rearview mirror. You placed your pencil against your lips and looked up in thought.

“Pancakes.” You said, with a smile.

“Looks like its breakfast for dinner then.” Dean licked his lips and took one last look at you in the mirror. You went back to drawing, biting your lip in concentration. Dean almost lost himself in staring at you, your hair blowing slightly, your lip stuck between your teeth. He cleared his throat and tried to shake the thoughts from his head, focusing on the road once again.

Dean pulled the impala into a diner parking lot in about an hour. You got out of the car and stretched, taking a large gulp of fresh air into your lungs. Dean had to stop and breathe as he looked at you. You raised your arms above your head causing your shirt to ride up slightly. Dean caught himself staring at the scar that ran across your hip, he was the one who had stitched you up. He will never forget running his hands across your smooth skin, watching the pain flash in your eyes hurt him more than you. Dean was so upset to leave a scar across your perfect skin. You assured him that it made you look like a hunter and that you didn’t mind any of his scars. If only you knew how much that one sentence had meant to him. Your eyes were closed as you pulled in a large breath through your nose, a look of peace crossing your beautiful face. You licked your lips and let your arms fall back down by your sides.

“Hey, you guys go get a table, I’m gonna fill up baby.” Dean called to you and Sam. You and Sam nodded and made your way into the diner. Dean crossed over to the gas station, filling up the impala before you set out on the road again. When he was putting the gas nozzle back he saw your sketch book in the backseat. He knew he shouldn’t, but the temptation won. He opened the door and grabbed it into his hands. It was a leather bound journal that he had gotten you for Christmas. Every hunter needed a journal, the smile you had given him was all he needed that day. You were his saving grace. His partner. He opened the journal and immediately took a sharp breath through his teeth. You were incredibly talented, you captured such small details that it made the picture look almost like a photograph. A snap of time captured by your hands. The first drawing was of a lake that Dean didn’t recognize. There was snow and evergreens surrounding the large body of water. Dean wondered if this was from your life before being a hunter, before you knew them and left everything behind. He turned the page and saw a drawing of your perspective from the backseat of the impala. He saw himself in front, one hand on the wheel as the other put a cassette tape into the radio. Sam beside him, his face was turned slightly and a small smile sat on his face, his eyes light and happy. Dean saw that he also had a small smile on his face, you captured everything. The way his jacket moved with him, the freckles on his face, his ring. Everything was there, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and turned the page. This one was of Sam sitting at a table. His hands resting on a book, a look of concentration on his face that you had shown perfectly again. His shaggy hair hung across his furrowed brow, his eyes narrowed slightly in thought. When Dean turned the page again he had to sit down. The picture was of him. He was leaning against a chair, beer in hand. He had a smile on his face and one hand in his pocket. He remembered this night immediately. The three of you solved a case and took a much needed day off. You ordered pizza, watched westerns, and drank until you all passed out. What really shocked Dean though, was how you had made him looking right at you. In the drawing he was staring directly at you, smiling at you. Dean saw happiness in his eyes for the first time in a long time. He saw what he wanted, he saw how he looked at you. How could you not know how he felt about you? Dean continued to turn the pages. There were some drawings of different scenes from all your cases. There was another one of Sam, but the rest were of Dean. He was sitting on a motel bed, his elbow resting on his leg as he took a drink from a whiskey bottle. Another, he was looking in the trunk for a weapon. More and more of him. The last one was of just his eyes looking through the rearview mirror. He knew he was looking directly at you because he did it all the time. He found himself taking glances at you more and more. It was becoming hard for him to ever take his eyes off you. He closed the journal and went back to the diner. He walked in and sat down with you and Sam.

“Everything ok?” Sam asked, his brow furrowed.

“Yeah, why?” Dean asked, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“You were gone for a while.” Sam said, titling his head slightly. Dean looked over at you, you were looking right at him, waiting for an answer.

“Right, slow gas pump. Did you guys order?” Dean took a sip from his soda, hoping it would stop them from pressing further.

“Yeah, I got you a cheeseburger.” You said, smiling at him. He stiffened under his jacket and smiled back at you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He said to you. You blinked a few times before you collected yourself.

“Yeah, of course.” Your voice was slightly higher than usual, nervous you took a big gulp of water. Thankfully your food came, giving you a break. You scarfed down your chocolate chip pancakes and made your way back to the impala to continue driving. You climbed in the backseat and immediately picked up your sketchbook again, starting where you left off. Sam’s phone rang about a half hour later.

“Yeah. Ok, were like three hours from there, we can take it.” He said into the phone, giving Dean a sideways glance. There was a defeated tone to his voice and the whole mood of the car changed from happy and carefree to serious in a matter of seconds.

“That was Bobby. Werewolves about three hours from here.” He turned to Dean again. Dean looked over at his brother and nodded before turning the music up, drowning everything else out. Dean couldn’t stop staring at you. He found himself gazing longingly at you once every ten minuets it felt like. The way you touched the pencil to your lips. How you tucked your hair behind your ear when pieces fell around your face, how you squinted at the page like you wanted it to talk. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were still drawing him or if you had moved on. He hoped it was still him. He loved that you took time to perfectly replicate his face into your journal. Something he gave you that you obsessively took everywhere. He loved the fact that he was always with you. You kept him close throughout the day and all through the night.

The drive was becoming daunting as you got closer. You all had just wanted a day off. To relax and maybe get more than three hours of sleep. The sun was setting around you, painting the sky in purples, pinks, and oranges. You were hanging in between the boys, looking out the window at the sunset when you caught a glimpse of Dean’s eyes in the light. The jade in them bounced against the darkening blue of the sky. The pink swirls dancing among the clouds brought out the orange specks jumping with his black pupils. You smiled to yourself.

“What?” He asked you, moving his eyes to look at you. He wasn’t annoyed, seemed more entertained if anything. You shook your head in embarrassment and cleared your throat.

“Sorry! The sky is just really pretty.” You said, biting your lip. He tried to contain his smile, you let out a breath and sunk into the backseat again. Shit.

The heavy clouds blended with the colors as the sun took its resting place for the night. As the cloak of night drew nearer it made it impossible for you to keep drawing so you placed your journal on the seat and once again lost yourself in looking out the window. Dean pulled into a motel and the three of you piled out. Dean went to go get a room leaving you and Sam with the bags. You walked into the room and all did an assessment. Definitely had worse places. You took the top sheet off one of the beds and laid it over the couch. You usually slept on the couch much to the boys protest, but you were smaller and didn’t move much in your sleep so you didn’t mind. You were tucking the sheet into the couch when Dean spoke behind you.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to share a bed.” Your stomach flipped and you tried to keep your face composed as you walked over and sat down on the bed next to him.

“Dean shameless flirting Winchester.” You tilted your head to look him in the eyes.

“It’s not shameless if I mean it.” He looked back at you. There was something in his eyes that took you by surprise. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something told you this was just more than playful banter.

“I-“ You were cut off by the bathroom door opening and Sam walking in front of you two.

“You guys ready to go?” He asked, slipping a jacket over his flannel.

“Yeah.” You and Dean both said at the same time, leaping off the bed. Sam looked between the two of you, his eyebrows came together.

“Cool.” He said, clearly still confused. The three of you went back to the impala and once again climbed in.

 ----------------------------------------

The werewolf howled as you charged at it with you gun. You could hear your blood pumping in your ears, frantically moving around. The wolf grabbed Sam by the shirt and tossed him aside, he hit the wall creating a loud bang. Dean’s gun went off next to you, but it was too late. The wolf’s claw came down on Dean, tearing his skin open. You shot at the wolf until it went down in front of you. Panting you ran to Dean’s side while screaming Sam’s name. Sam groaned against the floor and made his way to a sitting position. You looked at Dean’s wound and shuttered. Blood. There was so much fucking blood. The claw marks ran across his bicep, not fatal but bleeding out was a real possibility. You quickly ripped your shirt off and tied it tight around Dean’s arm. Sam limped his way over to you and helped you lift Dean, making your way to the impala. You were laid across the back, holding Dean against you. Sam drove like a mad man back to the motel. You and Sam carried Dean into the motel room and laid him down on the couch.

“You got it?” Sam asked, holding the back of his head.

“Yeah, Sam you go take care of yourself. I got Dean.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” Sam closed the bathroom door and turned to shower on. You grabbed the kit and threaded the floss into the needle before getting to work on Dean, pouring whiskey over the wound. He shot up and tried to grab his arm, seeing you in just a bra and jeans covered in blood. You sat up and gently laid him back down again, you looked into his eyes and smiled. He looked at the claw marks and let out a shaky breath.

“I’m going to take care of you, Dean.” You said as you threaded the needle and floss through his skin. He hissed but tried his best to stay still.

“Ya know, this isn’t how I pictured getting you topless.” He joked, his face contorting against the pulling of his skin. You laughed, looking at him for a second.

“Really? What did you think, just some wild drunken night?” You asked, ignoring the buzzing starting to grow across your skin from his eyes on you.

“Of course not. I would romance you first.” He was being weird. He had been weird since the diner. You didn’t really know how to respond, but you were highly curious.

“How would you romance me?” You asked, hoping you weren’t pushing too far, but he seemed like he wanted you to ask.

“I would make you breakfast for dinner, I would watch Y/F/M with you and let you eat all the popcorn. I would tell you how I think about you all the time. That you’re my favorite person in the whole world and that every time I’m near you I feel a sense of peace I was never given. I would tell you that…that I saw your journal and the fact that you carry me around with you all the time brings me so much joy.” He was looking right at you now. His eyes were searching yours for any kind of answer, yes, no, shut up. Anything. You licked your lips and blinked trying to concentrate on what he just said. He had just said that, right? Maybe the werewolf took a swing at you too and this was all a coma dream. You were surprised about how you weren’t mad he looked at your journal. Embarrassed sure, but not mad.

“I…I’m so embarrassed you saw my journal. Its just like 50 drawings of you.” You were trying desperately to distract yourself with wrapping his arm in gauze.

“I’m not embarrassed. God, Y/N I have been crazy about you for so long now.” Um…WHAT? You were absolutely taken aback. You looked directly into his eyes and saw nothing but adoration for you. Your lips parted and you felt your heart rate spike.

“I’m crazy about you too, Dean. I mean obviously, I draw you all the time.” You smiled at him and nervously tucked your hair behind your ear. His hand came over your face, his fingertips lightly touching your cheek before twisting into your hair. He pulled you to him, your hands laying across his chest. Your lips touched and heat immediately flowed throughout your body. Like someone poured warm honey all over you, the fire spread. You broke apart and stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, Dean smiled at you.

“So, this is why you guys have been so weird? Whatever, I just want to go to sleep. I’ll get my own room.” Sam’s voice came from behind you. You turned to face him, shooting him an apologetic look. His face softened and he walked over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’m happy for you guys.” He said, looking at you. He grabbed his duffel and walked towards the door. You smiled after him and turned back around to Dean.

“As much as I want to keep kissing you, I am still covered in your blood.” You said, gesturing to yourself.

“Right, yeah! You shower, I’ll get myself changed out here.” He said. You nodded and walked into the bathroom. You closed the door and touched your lips, still tasting Dean on them. You took off your blood stained clothes and stepped under the warm water. You felt the warm water wash away all the pain from this hunt and replace it with happiness, until only Dean was left. You grabbed the towel and made your way back into the room.

“Looks like I got you in my bed after all.” Dean said with a sideways grin. You laughed and ran your fingers through your wet hair. You slipped on your pajamas and crawled under the covers with Dean, he was so warm. His skin was smooth against yours as you curled into him. He laid his injured arm out and wrapped his other arm around you. He kissed your hairline and made small patterns on your shoulder. His finger tips lightly trailed up your neck and back down again, relaxing you completely.

“I’m so happy to be here with you. Is all that stuff you said earlier true? Do you really think about me all the time?” You said against his chest.

“Me too. Of course its all true! How could I think about anything but you. You are gorgeous, sexy, brilliant, and one of the best hunters I have ever seen.” You smiled shyly, turning your head into his chest. “Are you mad I looked at your journal?” He asked you.

“I thought I would be, but I was just embarrassed. I just kept drawing you and soon I realized I had this creepy little book of just you.” You giggled, rubbing your cheek against him.

“Like I said, I love that you carried me with you through everything. I love that I’m the one you chose to draw.” He looked down at you, raising his eyebrows.

“Thanks, Dean, for not being weird about it.” You began to trace patterns over his skin too. He hummed in response, exhaustion taking him. The two of you fell into a restful sleep, entwined in each other.

You woke to the sunlight streaming through the window. You groaned and tried to roll over, but felt Dean’s body pressed against yours, effectively caging you to him. You smiled and burrowed down further into his hot skin. You felt his lips on your back, his nose trailing behind them leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Good morning.” You whispered into the quiet room.

“Hey baby.” He mumbled back, his voice deep and rough.

“Baby?” You said back, turning to face him.

“You’re mine now.” He said, leaving kisses all over your shoulder and back. You smiled, you were his.

“Does that mean you’re going to romance me?” You asked, biting your lip.

She’s leaning against the bole of an olive tree, lively, colorful against the aging wood, her kind eyes focused on something shiny between her fingers. It’s not the first time she’s caught his eye these past couple of days, not the first time he feels that pull towards her, that inexplicable connection he can’t seem to fight, but she looks so heartbreakingly beautiful in that moment, hair windswept and cheeks flushed, that he does the one thing he promised himself he wouldn’t do.

He lets his defenses crumble.

Slowly, he walks to her, listens to his own voice as he says, “You might want to hide that, kid.”

Her eyes dart up to meet his.

She gets up, tilts her head, confused. Intrigued.

“I know a lot of people that would kill for a lucky penny,” he explains with a smirk.

She smiles.

It’s soft and brilliant and causes his heart to stumble over itself a little bit.

“Hell of a place to find it, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he says, gaze flickering over her intensely. “Yeah, it really is.” He holds a hand out to her, shoots her a crooked grin. “M’ Dean, by the way.”

“Y/N,” she nods. “S’ good to finally put a name to the face.”

He laughs, deep and gruff and just a tad coy. “Been wondering about my face, sweetheart?”

A hum.

Lips curled up in an over-confident smirk that confirms he is nothing if not hot-blooded.

“Well. You did pretend to buy a second cup of coffee just to stand next to me in line yesterday, didn’t you?”

Oh.

She noticed. Great.

“Hmmm…” He leans in a bit, his smirk getting bigger, more daring. “How do you know I was pretending?”

She chuckles.

It seeps into him like whiskey.

“For one thing, their coffee’s not that good.”

“And?” he pushes, Adam’s apple bobbing at the spark in her eye.

“And I might have seen you throwing away the first cup.”

He grins, delighted. “Damn. I thought I was sneaky about that.”

“Not really, no,” she beams, pushing some hair off her face. “Part of me was expecting you to toss me some sort of cheap pick up line after that.”

He lifts his shoulders, breathes some air through his nose, not quite a laugh. “S’ a good thing I didn’t, then.”

“S’ a good thing you didn’t.” She tilts her head, gnaws on her bottom lip. “Why didn’t you?”

He slants his brows, a tiny smirk growing on his face.

The sun has finally managed to pierce through the cloudy sky, and stray rays of light dance across her hair.

She looks like a sunflower.

He loves it.

“Well, I…” He sighs, searches for something in her eyes. “Honestly, kid, if things were different, I’d be hitting on you so fast it’d make your head spin–” he shakes her head at her eye roll– “but, uh…”

“Wrong place, wrong time?”

He swallows, hard.

The lump in his throat tastes like fear and guilt and blood. “Something like that.”

She nods.

There’s concern etched on her face, like she isn’t exactly sure he’s telling her the entire truth but doesn’t know if she should press any further.

Eventually, she asks, “Got your heart broken recently?”

He chuckles, but it’s nervous, sheepish.

His gaze drifts from her lips to her eyes, the shades of Y/E/C there, the way they sparkle when the sun catches them just right.

She’s more beautiful up close, and something about the way she’s looking at him takes him back to the first time he saw her in that coffee shop the day before, the sound of her laughing at something a little girl in front of her had said, the purple, woolen scarf wrapped around her neck, the slivers of skin it’d left uncovered.

“No, nothing like that. Just… Things are a little complicated right now and I… I don’t want you to get dragged into this mess.”

Her face falters.

She looks hesitant for a second, like she’s debating something, and then she reaches out, places a hand on his shoulder.

Her fingers are delicate as they close around the leather there, and he feels them, feels their warmth radiating through layers of flannel and leather.

“Everyone deserves something good in their life, though.” Deep breath. “Even if it’s just for a second,” she adds, and the kindness, the simplicity of her words affect him in a way he didn’t deem possible.

He locks eyes with her.

Husky, he whispers, “Talked to you today, didn’t I?”

She beams at him.

Her eyes shine. “Gimme your phone.”

“My what?”

“Just gimme your phone, Sparky. I promise I won’t make a run for it,” she laughs, and he obliges, squints at her as she adds her number in his contacts. “There you go.” She hands the phone back to him. “In case you want to make my head spin when things go back to normal.”

His heart clenches.

The muscles in his jaw twitch. “I don’t think–”

“Just keep it, okay? Oh, and–” she fishes for something in her pocket– “here.” She holds the penny out for him. “You should have that.”

“No, that’s… Kid, I can’t keep that. S’ yours.”

“It is. But you look like you need it more than I do.”

“I look like I need a penny?” he implores, brows raised, and when she laughs, when he makes her laugh, he feels like the weight of the world, the weight of his deal, of his sealed death, has been lifted off his shoulders, if only for a second.

“You look like you need luck. And–” she purses her lips, clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth– “returning it is a great excuse for a first date.”

He laughs, shakes his head in fascination.

“You’re–”

“Awesome. Yeah, I know.”

He wants to say something more then, wants to spend a few more minutes with her, to get to know her, but the door of the coffee shop falls open, and a beautiful woman around her age, clever-eyed and brown-skinned, waves her hand, smiles at them.

Y/N meets his gaze, her face dressed in sweetness and regret.

Her fingers brush against his as she slips the penny to him. “I have to go.”

His heart sinks a little in his chest. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. Just, uh–” his hand closes around her wrist gently– “take care of yourself, kid.”

Her eyes drift to where their hands are joined.

She smiles. “You too.”

He swallows, watches as she walks away from him, like they all do, but–

“Hey, Sparky,” she shouts just when she’s across the street, eyes lit up with mischief. She waits for a few seconds, makes sure he can see her, and then she says, “I’ll be seeing you.”

An unexpected grin breaks across his face.

And he can’t be sure, but he feels the lucky penny burning in his hands.

Dean’s convinced he’ll never see her again.

He wants to in a way that surprises him, looks for her when he comes back from Hell, regretful and reticent and changed, but it’s grim and pointless, like looking for a hope in a world full of monsters.  

Her phone number’s no longer in service.

He has no idea what her last name is, what she does for a living, and no way of tracking her.

It troubles him for a while, the way he’d voluntarily let her slip through his fingers, but then he learns that angels are real, and Lilith is trying to start the Apocalypse, and he thinks that maybe it’s better this way, better for her to be one of those people that could have been something in his life, but never quite made it; the one that got away.

And still, he never really stops thinking about her.

She sneaks into his mind in the most unexpected of moments, when he’s out on a hunt in Arizona, passing by a field of olive trees, holding the lucky penny she’d given him in the safety of his car. She’s cold sunshine; he never sees her, but he knows she’s there, can feel her under his skin.

So, when he thinks he catches a glimpse of her as he’s being carried into the ER of a hospital in Oregon, eyes half-closed and mind still going over the mistake that had almost cost him his life –he should have known the werewolf would use the girl he kept hostage as a decoy– he blames it on the adrenaline and the blood that slowly but surely keeps coming out of his side like beer out of a tap.

Taking a deep breath, he tries to concentrate, assess the situation he is in.

A woman shouts something above him, something about a wound to his right flank, and her voice, though a bit more authoritative than he remembers, is too familiar to ignore.

So, he blinks, tries to open his eyes, and there she is, hovering above him, dressed in scrubs and a white lab coat, a stethoscope around her neck.

He notes, vaguely, that her hair is smartly pinned up.

The observation befuddles him, especially because he currently feels like someone’s trying to punch his side open, but everything around him seems so hazy –from the blood loss or the brightness of the lights, he can’t know– that she’s the only real thing he can actually focus on.

He tries to speak.

It comes out low and scraped, like he’s spent the past few weeks screaming.

“Y/N?”

Her eyes lock onto his.

He can’t be sure, but he thinks he sees her defenses flutter.

“S’ good to see you again, Sparky,” she says and, God, it comes out so soft and gentle that he thinks he’s dreaming. “Next time though just–” she pinches his left wrist, checking his pulse– “try calling first.”

His brow slants.

He huffs out a ragged breath. “I did try. You changed your number, sweetheart.”

“You two know each other?” A woman in her early thirties –Dean recognizes her from the morning he met Y/N– asks, a sly smirk playing across her face.

Y/N’s lips pull up into the tiniest of smiles as they reach an operating room.

“He’s the Coffee Guy.”

A gasp.

Eyes open wide.

“You are the Coffee Guy? Y/N, you never told me he was hot.”

Dean’s lips pull up in a boyish grin.

Y/N snorts, though he’s also sure her cheeks flush pink.

“Alright, Nympho, tone it down,” she says, rolling at her sleeves. Then, more reserved, she adds, “On the count of three,” and he’s being lifted and laid onto the operating table.

The sight of it is enough to pull him back to the real world.

His eyes dart from one side of the room to the other.

“Hey, where’s my brother?” He tries to sit up, but Y/N’s hands, soft, firm, stop him. “Sammy?”

“Your brother’s fine, Dean,” Y/N mumbles with a sort of authoritative gentleness that surprises him. “He’s right outside, filling your medical history for us.”

“Why do you–”

“M’ gonna have to open you up,” she explains, disinfecting her hands.

“Doc, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but that sounds unnecessarily kinky,” he gloats, but she dismisses him with a sideways glance, doesn’t really see the way his carefully constructed façade is falling to pieces, the way his bottom lip wobbles at the realization he has to spend hours in this hospital while those people the werewolf’s been hunting, his brother, need him out there.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“M’ about to use a scalpel on you while you’ll bleed your guts out.”

He groans, screws one eye shut. “No more flirting then?”

“No more flirting.” She puts on a pair of rubber gloves. “Tahini. Vitals?”

“95 over 50. Tachy at 140.”

“Okay, hit him up.”

“Hit me up? With what?” he asks, bemused.

Instead of answering, Tahini mirrors Y/N’s moves as she puts on a mask, jams a syringe into his arm.

Her words begin to fade after that, like colors in a cinematic screen and he’s falling, falling, falling until everything around him is quiet, colorless.

He can do nothing but breathe.

In. Out.

In. Out.

In. Out.

He has no idea how long he stays like this, the rise and fall of his chest the only indication he’s still alive, but he does know that, when he finally opens his eyes, he finds her sitting across the side of the room, a pile of charts on her lap.

He looks for Sammy.

He’s asleep on a chair next to him.

“Hey,” Y/N whispers, eyes darting up to meet his, “take it easy. You just got out of surgery.”

He swallows, but his throat feels sore, covered in sandpaper. “How long was I out?”

“About six hours. How do you feel?”

He looks at the tubes and the wires surrounding him.

His head feels like it’s about to split open.

“Like I just had a run in with Jacob Black,” he grounds out, but she laughs, and it’s so brilliant that there’s a second, just a split second in time, when he forgets he’s in pain.

“Yeah, I don’t know how that happened, to be honest.” She gnaws on her bottom lip, stands next to him. “We’ve never had issues with wolf attacks until now. We, uh…” She casts her eyes downwards. “We lost three girls last week. One was still breathing when they brought her in. She…” She draws in a deep breath, shakes her head. “It was bad.”

And Dean doesn’t know whether it’s the anesthesia that hasn’t worn off yet, or the fact she spent the past few hours waiting for him to wake up in a stiff hospital chair, but he reaches out, holds her hand in his.

“M’ sorry,” he rasps out, as genuine as he can manage.

She nods. “Yeah. Yeah, me too.” She rubs at her forehead. “Anyway, I, uh…” A pause. Eyes that drift to Sam. “I had a hard time convincing him to leave your side.”

His lips curl up in a small smile at the mention of his brother.

He snorts, winces a little at his attempt to sit up. “Kid worries too much, doesn’t he?”

“I dunno, Sparky. You seemed pretty banged up when he brought you in last night.”

He grins, honest and wide and pained. “That why you’re here?”

She blinks.

Her cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink.

“C’mon, Doc,” he coaxes, glancing her up and down. “I can tell when someone’s worried about me.”

She lets out a snort.

Her brows slant. “I wasn’t worried about you.”

He hums, but it’s dripping with sarcasm.

“I was not,” she insists, barely able to suppress her smile. “Just wanted to make sure you’d have your chance to make my head spin before you drive away into the sunset again.”

A groan.

Eyes rolled skywards.

“You’re not gonna let that one go, are you?”

She grins, and it’s anything but innocent. “Nope.”

“Well, m’ sorry to disappoint, but I don’t think m’ in any condition to woo you anytime soon.”

Her eyes shine and, for a moment, he almost believes he can be his old self again, can be that version of himself he knows she’d fall for, someone fearless, invincible.

“Guess I’ll just have to stick around a while longer, then.”

He smirks.

The corners of his eyes crinkle.

“Guess so,” he whispers.

The smile that breaks across her face is the most beautiful thing he’s seen since he returned from Hell.

Dean knows he shouldn’t want her.

He knows he’s not allowed to, knows the things he feels for her are dangerous and pointless, distracting.

He knows he’s going to hurt her, eventually, even if that’s the last thing he wants; he’s a Winchester, after all, destined to wreak havoc and feed off of it like one of those monsters he so vehemently hates.

He knows it.

And yet, as he watches her laugh at something stupid he’s said, the soft lines of her face so impeccably mapped out by the warmth of the string lights above them, he can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to trace those same lines with his fingertips, press his mouth against hers.

He wants her.  

He wants her so much that he doesn’t have the courage to stop everything that’s shifting between them, doesn’t have the strength to confront her about her visits in the hospital, the late dinner they had the day he was released.

He wants her so much that he can’t even tell her he is leaving in three days because this, the almost kiss they’d shared earlier, this night they decided to spend by her front porch, will become nothing more but another memory, another burden for him to let go of.

“Hey, I am not lying,” Y/N’s voice sneaks into his thoughts, the way her hand rests on his thigh almost setting him on fire.

He clears his throat, shakes his head. “Come on. D’ you really expect me to believe you’ve never gone skinny-dipping?”

“Yes.”

He waggles his brow suggestively. “Not even once?”

“Dude, I’m a doctor. I know exactly what exists in the water and have zero desire to let it get anywhere near my lady parts,” she retorts, lips wrapping around the mouth of the half-empty bottle of beer she’s holding.

“But–”

“No buts,” she cuts him off. “S’ my turn.”

“Go ahead then.”

“Hmmm…” She scrunches her nose up in the cutest way possible, gnaws on her bottom lip. “First kiss.”

“What about it?”

“Tell me about it, smartass.”

He hums.

His mind drifts back to an afternoon years ago, the smell of sandalwood and sage in Sonny’s living room, the feel of Robin’s lips against his, new, cherished.

Everything had seemed so final then, so oppressive and terrifying and yet, as he looks back now, he realizes how simple his life had been.

“I, uh… I was ‘bout sixteen at that time, I think. Her name was Robin. She–” a deep chuckle– “she kissed me, actually. Just leaned in and…”

She smiles.

It’s soft and sweet, with pleasant surprise curled around its edges.

“What?”

“You liked her,” she says, warmth dancing in her eyes.

“Course I did. That’s why people kiss, Doc,” he deadpans.

“No, Sparky. I meant that you liked-liked her.”

He snorts, but his eyes are shining. “Liked-liked? How old are you, five?”

“Shut up.” Leaning closer, she bats her eyelashes and squints. “You know you’re gonna have to tell me what happened with her now.”

“Really?”

“Really. M’ pretty sure there’s a really good story there.”

“And I am pretty sure your turn has passed, so–” he clasps his hands together, purses his lips– “tell me about your first kiss.”

“Huh. Using my own questions against me, I see.”

He can’t help the chuckle that escapes his lips. “What can I say, sweetheart? I play dirty from time to time.”

Her cheeks flush pink.

It’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.

“Well, believe it or not, I had my first kiss at the ripe age of thirteen.”

He almost chokes on his beer. “Thirteen?”

“My best friend and I were home alone, watching Beverly Hills, 90210. We had questions.” Her bottle pauses halfway through her mouth. “He was probably the best kiss of my life. Got a little cocky when I told him, too.”

He chortles.

The corners of his eyes crinkle. “You guys are still close?”

Her fingers press against the chain of the vintage locket necklace she’s wearing, almost instinctively. “Not anymore, no. We… Well. S’ a long story.”

“Doc, you don’t have to–” he starts when he notices the way she’s holding the locket.

“I want to,” she cuts him off, handing it open to him.

Inside, there’s a picture of a man he’s never seen before, holding her as she’s clambered up on his shoulders, wild laughter lighting up their faces. The pair of them is almost oblivious to the camera, her chin brushing against his dark brown hair, his stubble smudged with whipped cream, but what really startles Dean is how warm, how kind, the man’s green eyes seem.

“Didn’t know you were a Giant’s fan,” he says, staring at the logo stamped on their hats, not really because he thinks it’s worth commenting on, but because the silence is stretching too far, and he has no idea what to say, what to do to break it.

“M’ not really. Jay just dragged me into every one of their games when we moved to San Francisco.”

“You both got into med school?” he asks, brow arched in surprise.

“Nope. He was studying to become a teacher in USF, but–” she closes the locket– “we rented a small apartment together.” She twists her mouth, casts him a sideways glance. “It cost about $2,000 a month, and we both had to work double shifts to afford it, but we loved living together.”

Her voice breaks as she speaks, fragments of heartache strapped into it, and he realizes, with a certain amount of disbelief, that she probably hasn’t spoken to anyone about him in a while.

He takes a deep gulp. “What happened?”

She blinks.

The muscles in her jaw twitch.

“9/11,” she rasps out. She takes a deep breath, shifts so she can face him better. “His brother used to work in the Towers.”

“Jesus, kid.”

“He was never found. A friend of his said he was in the Windows of the World when the fire started. Jay was devastated.” Her eyes focus on the label of her beer. “For a long time, I was worried –I thought he’d try to do something stupid. And then, about three months after the funeral, he joined the Army.” She juts her chin. “They sent him to Iraq.” She drags her eyes up, the Y/E/C pools swimming in grief and loss. “The man who came back wasn’t Jay. I… I tried to help him. I really did. He started a treatment, we went to see a therapist together.”

“But it wasn’t enough,” Dean whispers, the words a dead weight on his tongue.

“It was my fault,” she says and, for a second, it’s like Dean can see through her, can see a part of her that’s mutilated by guilt and self-doubt, the side he’d caught a glimpse of when he listened to her speak about the girl she lost back at the hospital.

He wonders, briefly, whether she is like him, whether she sees the one person that mattered the most to her in the face of all the people she couldn’t save.

It’s maddening.

“He was supposed to pick me up for dinner, but I… I was late. One of the attending doctors paged me the last minute and I didn’t even have the time to cancel. By the time surgery was over, we’d already missed our reservation, so we decided to walk to a small diner nearby instead.” She clamps her teeth, digs her fingers into her palm hard enough to draw blood. “There was a car accident. A truck drifted into the opposite lane and… I remember thinking I’ve never seen Jay so scared before. He was just looking at this girl, bleeding in her car, and his eyes were… empty.” The muscles in her jaw flare. “I reached out for him. I know I shouldn’t have, but it was instinct, you know?” Her bottom lip wobbles. “He broke my arm.”

“I’m… Fuck, Doc, I wish there was something I could say…”

“Yeah.” She runs a hand over her face. “Me too.”

Above them, the sky has turned cloudless. Infinite.

“He ran away, didn’t he?” he asks, though he already knows the answer because he knows men like Jay.

He’s been like Jay, had cut himself open to build up walls and protect the people he loved from himself, had let others break him until the pain was so much that he had to subject others to it, had bled and tortured and suffered for his brother.

He’d kept her at a distance to save her, and yet Jay had done the exact same thing, and he’d broken her beyond repair.

She nods.

Her bottom lip wobbles. “I told him it wasn’t his fault. I swore we could fix it.”

She gets up as she speaks, walks down the stairs of the porch and reaches the small garden where there’s a rose bush and he follows her, watches as she gingerly drags her fingers over the thorns.

He places a hand on her shoulder, a soft, reassuring pressure. “He was only trying to protect you.”

“I know.” In the dark, her eyes find his. “That’s what makes this worse. You don’t push the ones you love away when they’re the only ones that can help you. You just don’t.”

“I know,” he repeats, his fingers squeezing hers.

“And you don’t get to play God and decide what’s best for them.”

She’s crying now, and Dean lets his arms fall open and pulls her to him, presses his lips on her temple without a moment’s hesitation.

“I don’t think it matters,” he says into her ear, not really sure whether they’re still talking about Jay or him, “but he hates himself for leaving, too.”

She lets out a small whimper.

Her eyes lock into his. “Your job,” she starts, her gaze burning him with the light of a thousand suns, “it’s dangerous, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“And you have to leave soon.”

He thumbs away a tear rolling down her cheek, ignores the gut-wrenching pain in his stomach. “I do. I don’t want to. But I do.”

“How much time do we have?”

“Doc, I don’t think we should–”

“I like you, Dean.” Her fingers find his jawline. “I really like you. And I don’t want to spend the next two years wondering what this–” she gestures between them– “could be. So, if we have one night, I’ll take one night. M’ not saying that’s easy, but–”

The rest of the words die on her lips when he cups her chin, and then they’re kissing, deep and hungry and desperate with her palms soft against his stubble, his body pressed against hers.

It’s not particularly slow, the way their lips move together, but there’s something redeeming about it, something that stamps out the longing of the past few years, halts that need he’d felt for her this week so deep into his bones.

He pulls back, barely. “Three days,” he mumbles. “We have three days.”

She hums, licks her bottom lip like she’s trying to savor his taste, but her smile is innocent as she says, “Good. Now shut up and kiss me again.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Forever Tags: @trexrambling @percywinchester27 @atwistoffate @sunlightdances @there-must-be-a-lock @torn-and-frayed @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @yourvoiceislikearose @pickupthatamulet @polina-93 @tiny-friggin-human @no-shit-sherl0ck @caitthejourno @lipstickandwhiskey @escabell @princess-shurii @starry-chaos @jpadjackles @supernatural-jackles @percywinchester27 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @mandilion76 @ravenangel33 @ravengirl94 @ruprecht0420 @sgarrett49 @atc74 @dancingalone21 @imagining-supernatural @masksandtruths @hannahindie @kathaswings @dreamingdean @becs-bunker @wordstothewisereaders @jayankles @winchestersnco @winchesters-flannels @iwriteaboutdean @becominglionhearted @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @juanitadiann @itssmallerontheoutside-13 @mogaruke @spngeronimo @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @samisimportant-blog @shutupiminlooove @holahellohialoha @jessilliam-caronday @wellthatsrandomkek @tiny-friggin-human @akshi8278 @mrswhozeewhatsis @novaddictx @keepcalmandcarryondean @carryonmyswansong @bebravekeeponfighting @emoryhemsworth @carryonmywaywardcaptain @sinistersaltqueen @superapplepie @superflurry @sebastianshoe @kleinkariertebetrachter @stellaa33 @annoyingpeople-postingthings @caeruli @adoptdontshoppets @may-darling @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @rlawson418 @jessikared97

Gabriel groaned in pain, clutching his head. He sank to his knees on the floor, yelling out as what felt like knives sank through his ears into his head. The sound of a thousand voices all condemning him.

“Gabe? Gabriel!” He barely heard Y/N yell, sprawling to the edge of the bed. Gabriel grit his teeth, trying to block the voices out of his head again. When the pain was finally gone, he sat up and turned to face his concerned girlfriend. “Gabe, what’s going on? Are you okay?” She held his face in her hands.

He looked up at her, concern and worry written all over his face. “I’m- I’m fine. It’s just angel radio… Something’s wrong.”

She furrowed her brow. “I thought you blocked that out?”

“I-I did… They got through. It’s… It’s bad Y/N/N.” He wouldn’t look her in the eye.

“Gabe. You’re scaring me. Just tell me what’s going on, I can help.” If only she knew…

Gabriel got on one knee and grabbed Y/N’s hands. “Do you trust me?”

She furrowed her brow again, shaking her head. “Gabe, tell me what’s going on, so help me-”

“Please, Y/N. Answer the question. Do you trust me?” His voice furthered the panicked tone in the room.

“Of course I do.” She squeezed his hand.

“Then this will have to wait,” he swallowed, reaching up to her forehead. Y/N started to protest, something about kicking his ass, but before she could finish, Gabe pressed his fingers to her forehead, and she slumped over onto him, showering Gabriel in Y/H/C hair.

Gabriel stood up, readjusting his girlfriend on his shoulder, and with the sound of his wings, they were gone.

Sam furrowed his brow at the sound of a loud knock at the door of the bunker. He shot his brother a confused look, before cautiously walking up to open it, gun at the ready. He pulled open the door, prepared for a fight but saw only the archangel Gabriel with Y/N Y/L/N slung over his shoulder.

“G-Gabriel?” Sam stuttered, in shock. “Oh my god, is Y/N okay?”

Gabriel looked back and forth between Sam and Dean, downstairs. “You need to help me. Please, I’m begging you. Y/N’s in danger.”

Sam nodded hastily. “Come in then.”

Gabriel mumbled a thank you, hurrying down the stairs into the bunker. Y/N had told him about it before, but he’d never seen it with his own eyes.

“Put her here,” Dean grumbled, pointing at the table, as confused as Sam. Why was an archangel at their door begging for help with an unconscious hunter?

“Alright, you wanna tell us what’s going on?” Dean asked, searching Y/N for injuries.

With the flap of wings, Castiel entered, and immediately had Gabriel by the collar, shoving him into the wall.

“What the hell have you done?” Cas grumbled at his brother, who looked annoyed rather than afraid.

“Woah, woah, woah. Easy, Cas,” Dean and Sam pulled Cas off of Gabriel. “Someone please tell us what’s going on!” Dean exclaimed.

“Gabriel and Y/N have conceived a nephilim. And a powerful one, at that.”

“Y/N’s pregnant?” Sam looked like he was going to throw up. “With your child Gabriel? How could you be so reckless!”

“We- I didn’t exactly do it on purpose! Y/N doesn’t even know yet. I just knocked her out and brought her here.”

“Why?” Growled Dean. “Y/N’s family but we’re not exactly your biggest fans Gabriel!”

Gabriel lifted Dean by his neck up against the wall, radiating with anger. “Do you not understand what’s going on here Winchester? Every angel in creation right now is going to be coming after her! Even I wouldn’t be able to protect her there long with a fucking flock of angels gunning for my girlfriend’s head!” Dean’s expression softened, almost empathetic. Gabriel released him. “I need to protect Y/N. I don’t even really care about the damn baby! But Y/N is not going to die! Not today, not tomorrow, and certainly not because I fucked up and put her in danger.”

The men in the room were silent. They’d never really seen Gabriel like this. A broken man just trying to protect the woman he loved, not the usual conniving sleazebag.

“Okay we need to act fast. It won’t take long before they figure out you’d take her here. We need to get warding, try and block the Nephilim’s energy from leaving the bunker,” said Sam.

Dean nodded. “I’ll go get whatever angel blades I can find. Gabriel, go take Y/N to one of the bedrooms. Preferably in the middle of the bunker. We need to stop that energy from reaching outside.”

Gabriel nodded, scooping Y/N up into his arms and running down the hall.

As Dean instructed, he put her in the room in the dead center of the bunker. As he rested his girlfriend down on the bed, she began to stir.

Her eyes flickered open and she moaned in pain. She always got migraines whenever he put her to sleep.

“Gabe? What- what am I doing in the bunker?” She moaned, reaching for Gabriel. Gabriel hastily got on the small bed with Y/N, leaning over her.

“Hey, sugar. Are you alright?” He swept a lock of hair off of her face.

“I-I’m fine. But what’s going on? You said… Angel radio freaked out right? And that something was really bad? What was it?” Y/N slung her arms around Gabriel’s neck, still lying down.

Gabriel sighed. “You’re not gonna like it Y/N/N.”

Y/N chuckled. “I can handle it.”

Gabriel, being Gabriel, took that as a challenge.

“You’re pregnant. With my child. A Nephilim.”

Y/N’s smile faded. “What? That’s even possible?”

“Yeah. They rarely come to be though. Nephilim are dangerous, powerful. Even more than archangels. So they’re wiped out before their born.”

“A-And the mother with them?”

Gabriel broke eye contact with Y/N, biting his lip. “And the mother with them.”

Y/N took a deep breath, sitting up.

“That’s why I brought you here. To keep you safe.”

Y/N nodded. “So every angel in existence hell bent on killing me. Great. We really fucked up didn’t we?”

Gabriel snorted. “Literally.”

“Yes.” You answered simply as you pulled up Dean’s shirt up and hovered your hand over his chest. You closed your eyes and concentrated on healing him. A light began to emit from your chest and hands as your breathing got heavier. Your eyes opened, glowing a bright violet. You focused on Dean and all that you had felt from him. Your hand touched Dean’s chest now and the light got brighter as you inhaled deeply through your mouth. All your focus turned to mending Dean as visions flashed through your mind. They weren’t like Sam’s, they were fast and unfocused, hurried and panicked. They were full of blood and agony as Dean absorbed the sorrow, wore it like a shield. You sent Dean feelings of peace and acceptance as your back straightened. You felt the claw marks on his skin close and his breathing become more relaxed and even. You checked his mind one last time and felt he was alright. The light receded back into you as you closed your eyes, when you opened them again they had gone back to their natural color. Your breathing was fast and heavy, you licked your lips and looked over at Sam. His eyes were quickly moving between you and Dean as his fingers twisted nervously. You reached over and took one of his hands in yours and gave him a reassuring smile. All you could feel was the nervous energy that was crawling through his veins. Dean opened his eyes and looked at you then Sam, he blinked rapidly as his brow furrowed. He was confused and flustered, but above everything he felt happy. He touched his chest, sitting up slightly as he continued to look between the two of you.

“Y/N, what did you do to me?” Dean said looking at his torn and blood stained shirt. Sam stiffened next to you and gripped your hand tighter.

“I healed you, Dean.” You let go of Sam’s hand, touched Dean’s shoulder and smiled softly at him. His eyes met yours once again, he was crying. He pulled you into a hug holding you so tight it was almost painful. You hugged him back and smiled as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” His chest was shaking slightly as he tried to keep his emotions in check. He pulled you away from him and looked deep into your eyes sending you a warm smile before he leaned forward and kissed you on the cheek.

“Are you ok?” Sam spoke for the first time. Dean didn’t answer, he stood up and walked over to Sam, pulling him into a tight hug. Sam’s brow furrowed as he looked at Dean from the corner of his eye, but hugged him back. Dean laughed into his brothers shoulder, a genuine hearty laugh that came from deep within his chest. He pulled away from Sam who was just staring at him with a puzzled look across his face.

“I am more than ok, Sammy. I’m happy, really happy.” Both brothers were smiling at each other now. Dean turned to you once more. “You didn’t just heal my body, you healed me completely. Thank you.” You reached up and touched his cheek closing your eyes.

“Oh my God, I filled it.” You said opening your eyes and took your hand off of Dean’s cheek.

“Filled what?” Sam asked.

“The hole. Dean, you had a hole inside of you that you tried to fill with hunting, sarcasm, girls, and booze. I filled it and the crazy part is I don’t even know how I did it.” You were excited now, understanding how Dean was feeling. The three of you looked at each other before nervous giggles rose from each of your chests, those giggles turned into whole hearted chuckles, which turned into belly laughs filling the room. The three of you held onto each other for support as you held your stomachs and tears rolled down your cheeks. You all settled down after a few minutes and you wrapped your arms around Sam’s waist. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kissed your forehead.

“You guys hungry?” Dean asked as he grabbed his phone to order a pizza. You and Sam both nodded your heads and you all walked into the living room. Dean got out three glasses and poured you all a drink before lifting his glass in the air. “To Y/N!” He said smiling at you. You smiled back and clicked your glass against his, Sam raised his glass as well.

“To Y/N.” He agreed joining his glass with yours and Deans. You all took a sip of whiskey and the room settled into a quiet comfort. Dean announced that he was going to get the pizza before giving you one last look of admiration. You heard the door close and turned to face Sam. He grabbed your face into his large hands and pressed his lips against yours. You made a surprised squeal before settling into the kiss and letting his mouth dominate yours. His fingers twisted into your hair as his other hand traveled down the length of your abdomen. Your breathing quickened and you reached your hands up to pull on his shirt collar slightly. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours as his thumb rubbed your cheek and his fingers traced a long the back of your neck. “Thank you, you saved Dean’s life. We have only known each other for a month now, but everything you do amazes me. Thank you.” His voice was just above a whisper, his breath hot against your skin. You smiled and rose to your tippy toes to press another kiss to his lips.

You ate the pizza with some wine, beer and small talk. You loved nights like this with the boys, full of laughter and love. All siting around the fireplace you shared stories of childhood and your hopes for the future. Dean retired to his room, clasping his hand on Sam’s shoulder and kissing the top of your head. You and Sam finished your drinks before you too went to your shared room to fall into passionate kisses and taking each other to new highs.

You woke the next morning with Sam’s hair tickling your bare back. He was all around you, invading every sense you had. His face was soft and peaceful, deep in slumber. You turned in his arms and kissed his forehead, pressing your chest against his. He let out a contented sigh as his arms squeezed around you and his face nuzzled into your neck. You ran your fingers through his soft hair and let the feeling of peace wash over the both of you. When you finally got up you went to the kitchen and made onion and cheddar breakfast biscuits, the smell was intoxicating as you took out the butter to soften and made fresh coffee. Dean walked in with a lazy smile over his face and well rested eyes.

“Sleep ok?” You asked.

“Better. I haven’t slept that good in…well forever.” He answered pouring himself a cup of coffee. Sam came in and you ate together with a newfound love for easy mornings with nothing better to do. Dean decided he wanted to work on baby for a while and left you and Sam alone.

“Y/N, I have been thinking.” Sam said lowering his head, he was nervous and apprehensive.

“What is it?” You asked, now nervous yourself.

“I think it would be a good idea if you told your friend, Y/F/N, what’s going on.” He grabbed your hand and held it between both of his.

“Oh, as much as I would love to talk to her. I don’t know if she will believe me, or want to talk to me after I tell her.” You were feeling the sadness wash over you again.

“I think its worth a try. I’ll go with you, we can do this together.” His hand was now running through your hair, playing with the ends slightly.

“Ok.” Was all you said back, nodding your head and taking a big breath. You and Sam cleaned up from breakfast and went to your room to pack a bag, then you took one of the cars from the bunker and headed out to your friends house. When you pulled into her driveway your eyes were wide and your palms sweaty. You licked your lips and ran your fingers through your hair nervously.

“Hey, I’m right here. You can do this.” Sam sent you a reassuring smile and kissed your fingers before you both got out of the car. You walked to the door and knocked three times, your breath was loud and fast as your pulse quickened too. The door opened and Y/F/N’s entire face dropped as she made eye contact with you.

“Oh my God!” She said as she threw her arms around you, you stumbled slightly but returned the hug. She was crying and you realized that you were too. She pulled away and wiped the tears from your cheeks. “What is going on? Where have you been? I have been so nervous, I went to the police but they couldn’t find a trace anywhere. Come in tell me everything. Are you ok?” She was rambling, she did this when she was nervous or overwhelmed, you could feel that she was happy but also a touch of concern was racing through her mind. You and Sam stepped into her home, she looked up at him and then back to you. She was just realizing he was here now.

“Y/F/N, this is Sam.” You said motioning to him. “I have been staying with him and his brother for a month now, they saved me. That night at the bar, I was taken by someone who wanted something from me. He used me to spy on his mother. Sam and his brother Dean saved my life, Sam found me.” You said, you knew it wasn’t a good answer, but it was a start.

“Ok, so you were kidnapped?” She asked, clearly confused.

“Yes, this man, his name is Crowley, he took me and made me spy on his mother.” You were looking at her, she was starting to get almost angry now. She knew you weren’t telling her everything. You touched her shoulder and sent her mental images of Crowley, the basement, Roweena, and Sam finding you. Y/F/N flinched away from you and took a step back, her hands coming up in front of her as if you were going to hit her. “Y/F/N, Crowley is a demon. He kidnapped me because he knew I could find his mother and tell him what she was planning to do. I can work my way into the mind of others. I am an empath.” You said holding your own hands up in surrender.

“What the hell are you talking about? What is an empath? What has he done to you?” She spat, bitterly looking at Sam. His face softened and he looked away from her.

“I know its confusing, but you know how good I always was at guessing what people were feeling or thinking. I could almost always know what someone was going to do and how they felt. It’s because I am an empath, just like my mom was.”

“Do you realize how insane you sound, Y/N? You’re crazy!” She was afraid now, you could feel it with every part of you. You closed your eyes and when you opened them again they were glowing violet, the light began to shine out of your palms and chest again as you walked towards her. She was frozen in place as you touched her and showed her the whole journey. Playing it for her like a movie. Crowley, Roweena, the bunker, the witches mark, all of it. When it was over you took your hand off her and the light receded back into you as your eyes changed back. She was staring at you, eyes wide and breath fast. She then surprised all of you by throwing her arms around you again and hugging you even tighter than before. “I always knew you were special.” She said into your hair as you chuckled.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t come sooner, I just wanted to make sure it was safe for Y/N.” Sam said sending her a soft smile. She looked at him, really looked at him and threw her arms around him too. Sam let out a surprised “oh!” and the three of you laughed. Y/F/N lead you into her kitchen where she made tea and asked you many questions about being an empath. She also grilled Sam on what being a hunter was and jokingly asked for his brothers phone number.

“You’re welcome to come back to the bunker with us if you want, just to see it. Or you can always come another day.” Sam offered with a warm and friendly tone.

“I can’t right now, but I will definitely take you up on the offer.” She said with the same tone back. You and Sam spent hours with her, happiness filled you and a weight was lifted off your shoulders because Y/F/N was finally back in your life. You gave her your phone number for the phone Dean had given you the first day you were with them and said your goodbyes. She held you for about five minuets before grabbing Sam into another hug. The car ride back to the bunker was full of smiles and Sam holding your hand the entire time. When you walked in Dean was waiting with food on the table. Pasta, bread, and salad covered the table. Dean was sitting down, a smile on his face.

“What’s all this?” You asked taking a seat across from him.

“I don’t know, I just felt so good I wanted to make a good dinner.” Dean answered.

“What are you drinking?” Sam asked him.

“Water. Man, I am drinking water.” Dean answered clearly proud of himself.

“Wow, I don’t know if I have ever seen you drink water.” Sam joked.

“I am a new man, Sammy.” Dean served the two of you until your plates weighed about a pound each. Dinner consisted of small talk and Dean asking you about your friend.

“She seemed interested in you.” You told him, looking at him over the rim of your glass.

“She must be a smart woman.” He laughed.

“She is.” You nodded and finished the rest of your wine. After dinner the three of you watched a movie. You almost fell asleep during it, leaning against Sam’s broad shoulder. He carried you into your shared bedroom and sat down on the bed, moving you so you were straddling his lap. You looked at him and scrunched your nose. “I don’t know babe, I am sleepy.” You said stretching slightly and giving him a lazy half grin.

“I know baby, that’s not what I want right now.” His hands were on your hips as his eyes gazed into yours. He was curious but also sheepish as he licked his lips and cleared his throat.

“You want me to heal you too.” You said running your fingers over his chest, playing with the buttons.

“Yes.” He answered. You nodded and felt a rush of energy course through you as you placed your hands on his chest again.

“I think it would work better if I had skin to skin.” You said cocking an eyebrow and letting your lips curl slightly.

“Oh really?” Sam was teasing now. He stared at you as you unbuttoned his shirt and traced your fingers over his skin. You placed your skin on his and the heat made your heart quicken. Your eyes fell closed as you concentrated on one word “heal” you let happiness fill your soul as the light began to shine from your palms and fingers and your eyes shown a bright violet.

Sam sat on the bed with you on his lap, his hands were placed firmly on your hips and your hands were resting on his chest. Your eyes were closed and he could tell you were concentrating. Your hands and chest began to glow the familiar light and your eyes shown bright violet when they opened. He had seen you in almost every setting now: hurt, scared, excited, happy, and naked; however, this was the most beautiful he had ever seen you. When your eyes were shining and your hands and chest were glowing you were ethereal. You inhaled deep through your mouth and Sam couldn’t pull his eyes away from you as he began to feel the warmth spread throughout his body. A dance of molasses coated his skin as he felt the weight lifted off his chest. All of this self-doubt and self-loathing was washed away and left with love and acceptance. You filled him with memories of him helping you and holding you, being kind to you when Dean and Cas were afraid of you. He saw you staring at him as his hands worked over the laptop. You smiling while walking behind him while on a hunt. Him kissing you while pulsing inside of you, your face twisted in pleasure. You were showing him all the things that made you fall for him.

“I love you, Sam Winchester.” Your voice spoke in his mind. His breath hitched in his throat as his chest tightened and his fingers dug into your hips. The light started to recede into your hands and chest as your eyes faded back to your beautiful Y/E/C. You smiled at him as your hands ran up his chest to cup his face.

“Did you mean it?” Sam said his eyes closed, trying to hold his emotions at bay.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.” You answered kissing him lightly. Sam’s face relaxed as his hands went under your shirt and up your back, pulling your chest against his.

“I love you Y/N Y/L/N. God, I love you so much.” He said as his voice cracked. You looked him in the eyes and kissed his cheeks where the tears were starting to fall.

“I feel amazing.” He said with a small chuckle.

“Me too.” You let out a small moan as you rolled your hips against him. “I don’t feel that sleepy anymore.” You whispered against his mouth. Sam didn’t answer he just wrapped one hand around your waist and pressed you on the bed. He kissed your lips lightly before moving down your body. His mouth left open mouthed kisses on the skin right below your belly button before his fingers slipped under the waistband of your yoga pants. He looked up at you from under his eyelashes and licked his lips before he spoke.  

“I’m going to take care of you, baby.” Were the last words he said to you before utter bliss consumed the two of you.

One Month Later

You were hurrying around the kitchen trying to make everything perfect. Your hair was whipped into a messy bun as wavy tendrils fell around your face.

“Baby, will you relax.” Sam said with a chuckle in his voice.

“I can’t until she gets here.” You said not even looking in his direction. You felt his hands wrap around your biceps from behind and your breathing evened at his touch. You turned to look at him, he leaned down and placed a long kiss on your lips. A knock on the door broke the two of you apart. You almost sprinted up the stairs and ripped the door open to find your best friends smiling face. You grabbed her and pulled her tightly into you, breathing in her floral scent and sending love into her. She laughed and pushed you back by your shoulders to cup your face in her hands and give you a warm smile. The two of you walked down the stairs arm in arm until she saw Sam. She ran to him and jumped into his arms, he quickly grabbed her and held her against him with a strong chuckle coming from his chest. Since you had healed him, Sam had been so happy and confident. Him and Dean were closer than ever and the two of you couldn’t get enough of each other. You and Dean had also built quite the bond together, thinking of him as your own brother. Dean walked out of his room and came into the war room to greet Y/F/N as well. The two of them looked each other over with interest and knowing smiles were exchanged between you and Sam. The day passed with food, drink, and laughter. Your heart was so full you could almost burst. You and Y/F/N couldn’t stop hugging and laughing at everything. She was completely blown away by the library and the war room. Dean offered to give her a full tour and she blushed before agreeing happily. You and Sam cleaned up the dishes while they wondered off. The two of you shared soft kisses and lingering touches as you cleaned up from lunch. Dean and Y/F/N came back with goofy grins on their faces and glazed eyes. You looked at your friend and narrowed your eyes before letting a wall down to sense her feelings. She was amazed and in awe of everything around her, including Dean. She came over and took your hand in yours.

“I’m proud of you.” She said holding your eyes with her own.

“For what?” You laughed lightly.

“For all of this, Y/N/N. You really dove deep into a life you knew nothing about to help people. I am really proud of my best friend, I love you.” She was so full of admiration it was almost overwhelming.

“Thank you, I couldn’t do it without those guys.” You said pointing to Sam and Dean, they were laughing over a beer. The four of you spent the rest of the day talking, drinking, and eating. Your friend left at around seven and you held each other for a few minutes before letting her go to say bye to the boys. Her and Sam hugged for a while exchanging smiles and words of friendly love. She blushed as she hugged Dean goodbye, he sent a wink her way after telling her to get home safe. She left after blowing you a kiss.

You and Sam said your good nights to Dean and walked into your room to watch some TV.

“I just want to say thank you.” You said against Sam’s chest.

“For what?” He asked you, moving so he could look into your face.

“For everything. Taking me in, caring for me, falling in love with me. You found me, Sam.” You said sitting up on your knees and running your fingers along his jaw.

“No, Y/N, that’s where your wrong.” He said sitting up and cupping your cheek, his thumb came across your bottom lip running across the plump surface. “Baby, you found me.” He said as his lips molded over yours and the two of you were once again lost in the feeling of each other.