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Supernatural Hunting Living and Love Part 8

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

1k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings boring filler chapter?

Note Short filler chapter. The next chapter will start seeing the slow burn come to an end!

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Four weeks evaporated faster than a desert mirage. Another team of hunters had cleared out the vampire nest I'd targeted, forcing me to scramble for a new lead. My gaze darted across the laptop screen, searching for a hunt far enough from Sydney that I could just jump in my car and disappear as soon as the casts came off. Dean, meanwhile, had mastered the art of the disappearing act himself. Most days, he was a ghost in my own house, materializing only to grab intel on the next hunt before vanishing again.

Truth be told, I didn't need the Winchesters anymore. I was a functioning weapon again. They could have left the day we were discharged, but Sam, bless his heart, insisted on sticking around until I was fully healed. He'd even convinced Theresa to return to the States with them. I genuinely felt happy for her, a bittersweet ache blooming in my chest. It stung that Sam, despite the grim realities of our work, could find solace in companionship, while Dean and I seemed perpetually adrift in a sea of loneliness.

The tension between the brothers simmered just beneath the surface, erupting into low-grade hostility during their late-night conversations. I tried my best to tune them out, but the sound of my own name being tossed around like a grenade always snagged my attention.

The last week was a blur of activity. Sam spent his days drowning Theresa in paperwork for her move, while Dean fussed over his beloved Impala, babbling about some shady contact who could "sneak her" past customs. I, on the other hand, was a silent observer, counting down the minutes until I was free. My escape plan was already hatched. Despite promising Sam I'd take it easy, my duffel bag sat fat and expectant in the closet, crammed with everything I needed to hit the road running.

Finally, the day arrived. The Winchesters and I piled into the car, a strange, tense silence hanging heavy in the air. Dean, still grumbling about his "baby" being in the hands of strangers, insisted he could feel the difference between his car and mine. Sam and I exchanged tolerant smiles, knowing it was pure delusion.

The hospital visit was a repeat of the last one, only this time, a sliver of hope flickered in my chest. The x-rays seemed to confirm it. The doctor, a man with a perpetually weary smile, announced, "Looks like we can ditch the dead weight."

"This one first," I declared, holding up my arm, the itch beneath the cast a maddening fire. "It's driving me insane."

The doctor chuckled. "That'll be the built-up…evidence of your resilience." He set to work with a saw, and the moment my arm was free, I cradled it close, both rubbing and scratching with fervor. The stench that hit me was ripe and metallic, like a forgotten gym bag. My skin, exposed for the first time in weeks, was a stark contrast of shades - a sickly brown under the cast giving way to the healthy pale of my upper arm. The doctor, unfazed, explained the science behind the offensive odor – trapped sweat and bacteria. Charming.

As quickly as they came off, the casts were relegated to the dustbin of history. Relief washed over me, mingling with a raw, exhilarating anticipation. Back in the car, the weight of the situation settled on my shoulders. A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it down. Tonight, when the Winchesters were safely on their flight, I'd be gone. Johnny, a fellow hunter with a nose for trouble, had sent me a juicy case on the other side of the country. People were vanishing along a desolate stretch of highway in Western Australia, all last seen at the same gas station. Humans? Or something more sinister? Johnny had arranged for me to meet a local hunter to investigate.

"Earth to Y/N," Dean's voice broke through my thoughts. "You zoning out on us, or are you ditching us at the airport?"

"Relax, your chariot awaits," I offered a tight smile.

"Seriously, what's got you lost in thought?" Sam asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Just contemplating the best way to break something and convince you two to stick around a bit longer," I deadpanned, then burst out laughing.

The joke landed with a thud. Dean muttered something about me being a "psycho," and slammed on the gas, eager to get the goodbyes over with.

At Theresa's place, a "for sale" sign sat like a grim sentinel in the yard. She wore a bittersweet smile, a reflection of my own conflicted emotions. We shared a hug, her goodbye a mix of excitement and sadness. As they disappeared into the bustle of the airport, I lingered for a moment, watching them go. Then, with a deep breath, I climbed back into the car. The airport shrunk in the rearview mirror, replaced by the endless ribbon of highway stretching before me. The ache in my chest sharpened – a potent cocktail of grief for the life I couldn't have and the thrill of the hunt that pulsed through my veins.

The drive was a blur. Every passing mile chipped away at the lingering vestiges of the Winchesters. The radio, usually a source of unwelcome distraction, remained silent. My thoughts were consumed by the case file Johnny had sent. The disappearances in Western Australia were unsettling. People, mostly lone travelers – men and women – vanished without a trace, their last known stop a deserted gas station along a desolate stretch of highway.

Johnny, ever the pragmatist, suspected foul play – a human trafficking ring or a deranged serial killer. But a sliver of doubt lingered in my mind. The isolation of the location, the pattern of disappearances… it all felt uncomfortably supernatural.

The local hunter Johnny had arranged for me to meet was a woman named Maya, someone with a reputation for handling the strange and unsettling. Her contact information was a single cryptic sentence: "Look for the blue ute with the bumper sticker that reads 'Honk if You've Seen Chupacabra.'"

A wry smile touched my lips. This was going to be interesting. The promise of a new hunt, a chance to unravel a mystery, fueled me forward. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the deserted highway, I pushed on, the ache in my chest replaced by a steely determination. The Winchesters were a fading memory, a chapter closed. The hunt was on.

Supernatural Hunting Living and Love Part 7

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

2.5k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings mentions of blood

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

I slept for ages. If I went off the alarm clock next to my bed, I had slept for well over 24 hours.  I probably would have slept longer but the sound of my sliding door opening followed by Deans voice woke me right up.

“What do you have there Sammy?” Dean asked.

“Y/N hasn’t eaten in 2 days, so I was just bringing her something” Sam said from directly outside the door. My stomach growled at the thought of food. It was true I hadn’t eaten anything since Theresa’s house.

“Oh, so your best buddies now?” Dean asked.

“What is your problem?” Sam sounded like he was getting angry with his older brother.

“Nothing it’s just interesting that the girl you had a huge problem with your suddenly being super nice to”.

“Yeah, well you love her Dean and I’m not going to change your mind on that, so I figured it’s better I just accept it then keep this stupid fight going” Sam sighed.

“Turns out it was just a phase” I could hear Deans smirk in his voice.

“Dean? Are you…”

“Sam seriously guess I was just thinkin’ to much with my downstairs brain” Dean laughed.

“Your sure?” Sam asked voice laced with uncertainty.

“Yes, I’m sure”

My heart broke with each word Dean spoke. If he truly felt that way, then why was he still hear looking after me? Why hadn’t they just left when they dropped me here? I heard Sam opening the door again, so I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. I heard Sam approach and the mattress beside me sink as he sat on the edge of the bed. Sam placed a hand on my shoulder and began to softly shake me. I groaned and pulled the covers over my head, pretending to have been woken up.

“Sorry you’ve been asleep for ages, and you need to eat something” Sam chuckled holding out the food.

“Thanks Sam” I tried to sit up, failing miserably “Uh a little help” I giggled nervously.

Sam chuckled before placing the food on my bedside table. He slipped an arm around my waist and hoisted me into a sitting position. He tucked two pillows from my bed behind my back to keep me comfortable. I grabbed the food from the bedside table and began tucking in. It was anything special literally tomato soup from a can with a couple of toasted cheese sandwiches. But still I dug into it like it was the last meal I would ever eat. Sam chuckled and shook his head.

“Okay well I’m going to head out for a little while”.

“Going to see Theresa?” I gave a cheeky smile.

“Uh yeah” Sam smiled rubbing the back of his neck.

I waved my hand at the door dismissing him. Sam just chuckled and put his hands up walking out the door. I sat in silence eating my soup and watching the door half wanting Dean to come in and half wanting him to stay away. Once I had finished eating, I placed the tray with bowl and plate back on the bedside table. It was in that moment that I realised I desperately needed to go to the toilet. Not wanting to call Dean in I tried to sit myself on the side of the bed. It took a lot of strength to lift myself on one hand given that even the smallest amount of pressure on my arm pulled the stitches that lined it causing me to grit my teeth in pain. By the time I have myself seated on the edge of the bed fresh blood had begun to bleed through the once white bandage that circled it. I forced myself to stand wobbling on the thick cast around my foot and ankle. Luckly the cast stopped before my knee making it slightly easier to walk. With the assistance of the bedside table and the wardrobe that lined the wall between the bed and the bathroom door I was able to hobble my way to the bathroom. I didn’t even think when I finished on the toilet, I flushed and wobbled over to the sink to wash my non-cast covered hand. The whole time I could hear Dean banging on the door and jiggling the handle asking to be let in. I sighed, looked at myself in the mirror and flicked the lock on the door allowing him to come in.

“What do you think your doing?” Dean looked furious.

“I’m going to the toilet” I motioned to the toilet.

“You should have asked for help” Dean moved to grab my arm.

“I’m not helpless Dean, I can get from my bed to my bathroom” I emphasized my. Dean looked down rubbing his forehead. He went to speak but let out a small gasp instead.

“You’ve busted your stitches” Dean gently grabbed my arm.

“I’ll live” I pulled my arm away. I made my way back to my bed while Dean stormed back out into the kitchen cursing under his breath. I got back into my bed without any trouble. I was sat on the edge of the bed deciding what to do when Dean came back, first aid kit in hand.

“Let me see your arm” Dean grumbled.

“What are you going to do? Play doctor?” I smirked at him.

“I know a little something about stitching wounds” Dean smiled at me “So will you let me see your arm please?”

I held my arm out to him. He sat beside me and slowly began up wrapping it being care not to pull on the sensitive wound below. Once my arm was completely unwrapped Dean laid it across his lap. He opened the first aid kid which I recognised as the one from the boot of the Impala. He pulled out a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a needle and sutures. He poured a small amount of the rubbing alcohol over the wound. He pulled out the torn stitches and sewed in the new stitches. I could see the look on Deans face, it was a face I had seen multiple times.

“I know that look” I looked over to a photo on my tv unit.

“What look?” Dean looked up at me briefly.

“Look at the freak” I looked back to Dean “It’s okay I’m use to it, hell the girls at school use to cut me just to see how quickly the cuts would heal” I shrugged.

“I’m sorry” Dean never took his eyes off my arm.

“Knowing what you know, would you say I could be one of the things we hunt?”

“Knowing what I know? Not a chance. Could you be some sort of medical anomaly? Definitely” Dean smiled.

“Oh, anomaly big word for you Winchester” I laughed at him.

Dean finished restitching my arm. He took a new bandage from the first aid kit and wrapped my arm up again.

“There all better” Dean smiled at me. “Now can I help you with anything or are you going to stay in bed”.

“Can you help me over to the computer?” I motioned to the computer in the corner. Dean scooped me up in his arms causing me to squeal. I wrapped my arms around his neck to keep myself from falling. Dean just chuckled and walked over to the computer desk. He placed me on the computer chair and swung me around to face the computer.

“So, what are you going to do?” Dean leaning on the desk next to me.

“I’m stuck here your not so I figured I’ll send you to a couple other cases in the area” I booted up the computer and logged in. I explained to Dean that I had started keeping an online journal that only I could access. Having it online made it easier to keep cases sorted and anything I learnt along the way a key stroke away. A lot easier then that paper journal they carried around. I pulled up a case from just over an hour away. Easy to drive there and back in a day, Vamp nest. I had it lined up as a quick clear out on my way to the big vamps nest up north.  Dean seemed impressed, he smirked at me and said something about hitting the road. He left the room with a final warning for me to take it easy. I heard the jingle of keys and the sound of the external sliding door. I turned back to the computer and started looked for other cases to keep Dean busy and out of my house.

And so, the next 2 weeks went by like this, me presenting Dean with a new case the second he was in the door, Sam going back and forth between helping Dean and spending time with Theresa. I just wanted to get back on my feet and away from the Winchesters. Sam and Dean would often talk at night as they were getting ready for bed in the lounge room. More of the same, Dean was sure he had no feelings for me, Sam was sure he was lying. Sam spoke of the spark he had with Theresa and how he was thinking about asking her to return to the US with them. Dean had now taken Sams position and was insistent it was a bad idea. There were times where Dean was around, and I would see him looking at me. He had this look, it was as if he was hurt over what happened, as if he was blaming himself. He was at fault in one way, but he wasn’t completely in the wrong. I had chosen to go back to the pool, I knew I was getting myself into trouble, but I did it anyway it wasn’t all his fault. If the boys weren’t here, I probably still would have gone back to the pool.

When the day finally came around for me to go back to the hospital to see how things were healing, I was nervous. Part of me hoped everything was healed so they boys could just leave but at the same time I hoped I had a little longer left to heal so I could keep the boys around for a little longer. As the days dragged, I felt myself fighting between wanting them to go and wanting to plead with them to take me with them. Something felt right with them, felt right with Dean. Dean pulled us up in front of the hospital and went to get a wheelchair. Sam had come with us for whatever reason. He stood by my open door and told me all about the things he done with Theresa. He had been taking the opportunity to live a normal life, he had taken her to the movies, they’d played at the arcade, everything a normal couple would do. I was happy for him. Dean came back with a wheelchair and insisted on lifting me from the car to the wheelchair. He then pushed me into the hospital while his brother followed behind. I directed him to the outpatient care clinic. We checked in with the receptionist and took a seat in the waiting room. We didn’t have to wait long at all. A doctor came and had a nurse roll me away to x-ray. He made the boys waiting for me in the waiting room. Once the x-rays where taken, the nurse rolled me back into the waiting room and told me that the doctor would be back with me shortly.

It took the doctor 45 minutes to get back to me. Dean rolled me into the doctor’s office taking a seat beside me while Sam went and stood in the corner. The doctor glanced between the two brothers before looking at me.

“Well I don’t know what to tell you but if I had to quess I would say your injuries where not as bad as the ER doctor and surgeon first thought” The doctor turned on his chair to face me.

“What makes you say that?” Sam jumped in before anyone could say anything else.

“The x-rays show that the ankle and wrist fractures are well on their way to healing something I wouldn’t expect to see if they were in fact fractured as bad as the original x-rays show” The doctor looked to Sam. Sam shot a concerned look at Dean. I knew exactly what he was thinking.

“So what does that mean for me?”

“I’d say in 4 weeks we could look at taking both casts off, of course I would want to do another x-ray first”.

“Wow that’s great news” I smiled.

“For now I would like to check your stitches then you can be on your way”

I nodded and held my arm out to the doctor. He slowly set about unwrapping my arm. When the bandage was completely off he pulled back the gauze. A surprised gasp left his lips and his eyes went wide.

“I, uh, I can take the stitches out if you want the cut looks almost completely healed so I don’t think you need to keep them in” The doctor tried to cover his surprise. I nodded and the doctor went around collecting what he needed to remove the stitches. Sam excused himself from the room. I looked over at Dean knowing exactly what Sam was thinking in that moment. Dean said he would go talk to him and left too leaving me with the doctor who had returned and started removing stitches from my arm.

…

I followed Sam out of the hospital back to the car where I found him rummaging through the boot. He stood up and looked at me holding Dads Journal.

“Sam it’s not what you think” I said walking over and taking the Journal.

“Then what Dean, we both know she shouldn’t have healed that quickly” Sam pointed a finger back at the hospital.

“If I tell you, you cannot tell her”.

“Tell me what? What do you know?” Sam crossed his arms across his chest.

“She’s part Angel Sammy”.

“Part Angel?” Sam chuckled and looked away from me.

“I’m serious”.

“Do you have any idea how crazy you sound…”.

…

“Do you have any idea how crazy you sound…” Sam spotted me and stopped talking. He nodded at me and moved to climb into the Impala.

“What’s his problem?” I asked hobbling up beside Dean on a crutch I was now able to use.

“Just freaked out by your fast healing is all” Dean smiled at me.

“You told him I’m not anything you hunt?” I asked.

“Yeah, not sure he believes me thought but he’ll get over it” Dean open the door and climbed into the Impala. I opened the backdoor of the Impala and slid in tossing the crutch on the floor. At least I didn’t have to wait to much longer to be rid of the Winchesters.

Supernatural Hunting Living and Love Part 6

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

2.5k word count

summary Dean finally acknowledges his feelings out loud.

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings mentions of stillbirth

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

“Dean, Dean!” A voice pierced through the ringing in my ears, dragging me out of a thick fog. I struggled to piece together what had happened. The last thing I remembered was being in the Impala—Y/N’s Impala—with her… but where was she?

“Dean, can you hear me?” The voice called again, more urgent this time.

“Y/N,” I groaned, but it wasn’t her voice.

A splash of water hit my face, jolting me awake. My eyes shot open, and I found myself sitting at the edge of a pool. The memories came rushing back in a flood: the hunt, Y/N’s anger, following her into the pool... and then nothing. That thing had taken control—I was possessed. My gaze was locked on the pool in front of me when two figures emerged from the water.

“Dean, I need help,” Castiel appeared, cradling Y/N’s limp body.

“No, no, no!” Panic surged through me as I scrambled to pull her from the pool. She wasn’t breathing, and there was blood—so much blood. I didn’t know what to do. My mind was a whirlwind of fear and desperation. I couldn’t lose her, not now. Autopilot kicked in as I grabbed her and bolted for the front door, adrenaline fueling my every step. Cas was right behind me, shattering the glass doors with a wave of his hand so I could barrel through without slowing down.

“Here,” Cas handed me her car keys. I didn’t question where he got them—I didn’t care. I flung her into the passenger seat and jumped into the driver’s side, flooring it toward the hospital. As I drove, my mind raced to come up with a story. Maybe she fell into the pool from a second-story window? Or maybe it was a stupid dare gone wrong? I was grasping at straws when a sharp cry of pain and coughing snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Oh, thank God, you’re alive,” I breathed a sigh of relief, glancing over at her.

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” she spat out, wincing as she tried to move in her seat.

“Me? What did I do?” I asked, concern and anger mixing in my voice.

“You—or the spirit that possessed you—attacked me,” she shivered, her voice trembling.

“Are you cold? I could turn the heat on,” I offered, reaching for the heater.

“Nah, it’s broken…” she muttered, her voice trailing off as she slumped unconscious in her seat.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I cursed under my breath, realizing it was probably the shock setting in. I pushed the car to its limits, and within 15 minutes, I was skidding to a stop outside the hospital. I yanked her out of the passenger seat and rushed inside, shouting for help as I burst through the doors. She was cold, but she was still breathing.

A nurse quickly appeared with a bed, urging me to lay her down. I hesitated, torn between the need to get her help and the overwhelming urge to protect her. I was frozen, unable to let go. A nurse gently placed a hand on my arm, grounding me just enough to let her go.

“It’s okay, she’ll be safe—I promise,” the nurse reassured me.

I nodded, reluctant but knowing I had to trust her. I gently placed Y/N on the bed, watching as they wheeled her away, shouting about trauma shears and portable X-rays.

“Y/N’s a fighter. She’ll be alright,” the nurse spoke up, her voice firm yet kind.

“How do you know her?” I asked, surprised as I turned to face her.

“We went to high school together; we were best friends,” she smiled nostalgically. “After graduation, I chose med school, and she pursued more creative endeavors.”

“I’m Dean,” I introduced myself, holding out my hand.

“Oh, the new boyfriend Rachael was talking about,” she said with a warm smile, shaking my hand. “I’m Lina. I have to say, I’m surprised she finally found someone interested in her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I felt a sudden, protective urge rise within me.

“I didn’t mean anything bad by it,” Lina clarified quickly. “She’s just… unique. We went to an all-girls Catholic school, and we used to have yearly dances with the boys’ school. None of the guys ever gave her much attention. She wasn’t the typical girly-girl. She never took their crap, never pretended to be something she wasn’t, and she never compromised her values. Honestly, I was always a bit jealous of how she could just be herself without a care in the world.”

“Yeah, well, it’s their loss,” I replied, a mix of pride and realization in my voice. “She’s amazing—so strong and independent. Nothing slows her down. I’m the luckiest guy in the world to have her in my life.” The truth of my words hit me hard, but I knew I could never tell her. I could never burden her—or anyone—with what came with being close to me.

“Come on, let’s fill out her paperwork,” Lina guided me out of the emergency room into the waiting area. She handed me a clipboard with a stack of forms and left me to fill them out.

First name: Y/N Last name: Age: Date of Birth: Place of Birth:

I sighed, staring at the empty spaces on the form. I knew so little about her—just bits and pieces. She’d mentioned she was 22, right? That would make her birth year 1993, but what about the day and month? And where in Australia was she born? Australia is a vast place. Frustration gnawed at me as I realized how little I knew about someone I cared so deeply for. I was about to give up when I heard the familiar flutter of wings, and Castiel appeared beside me.

“January 24, 1993,” Cas said, his voice as calm and steady as ever.

"What?" I asked, confusion lacing my voice.

"Her date of birth is January 24, 1993. Last name: Y/L/N. Place of birth: Goulburn, NSW," Cas rattled off the details like they were common knowledge.

"How did you know that? The 24th—that’s my birthday," I said, looking away from the clipboard, disbelief creeping in.

“The day she was born, something went wrong,” Cas began, his tone unwavering. “She died, but she wasn’t supposed to, so God had me bring her back.”

“What? Did God have some grand plan for her?” I threw my hands in the air, frustration bubbling over.

“I’m not at liberty to say. It’s God’s plan—only He knows,” Cas replied, his words only adding to my irritation.

“If you saved her then, why can’t you fix her now?” I almost yelled, my voice rising with desperation.

“It’s not that simple, Dean,” Cas responded, calm yet infuriating.

“How? Just lay your hands on her and heal her!” I shouted, attracting glances from the people in the waiting room.

“Dean,” Cas said more softly, “when I brought her back to life, it took a piece of myself. A piece she still carries within her. It will help save her.”

“So, what? She’s part angel?” I asked, disbelief and a hint of awe mingling in my voice.

“Yes,” Cas answered simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Great, well now I’ve heard it all.” I shook my head, overwhelmed by everything. I turned back to the paperwork, but to my surprise, it was already filled in. When I looked up, Cas was gone. Typical. I dropped the pen onto the clipboard, running my hand over my face, trying to process everything.

“Dean?” A nurse appeared beside me, her presence pulling me back to the moment.

“Yes, that’s me,” I replied, standing up quickly.

“Y/N is awake and asking for you,” she smiled gently. “Be warned, we haven’t quite got her fixed up yet, but she won’t calm down without you, she says.”

I nodded and followed her through a maze of hallways, the sound of Y/N’s frantic cries growing louder. At some point, the nurse had taken the clipboard from my hands, freeing them to hold Y/N’s and help calm her down.

“Dean,” she choked out between sobs, her voice trembling with fear.

“It’s okay, I’m here. You need to let them help you,” I stayed calm, trying to be the steady presence she needed right now.

The medical staff cut away her clothes and removed her boots as I held her hand tight, not daring to let go. They managed to take X-rays after I reassured her that I’d be just outside the room, even though I knew hospitals terrified her. When they placed the X-rays on the lightbox, I saw the extent of the damage—her ankle and wrist were badly broken. Guilt gnawed at me, knowing I had done this to her, even if I had no control over myself.

I noticed a deep cut running down her forearm. A doctor was doing his best to clean and stitch it up while I kept Y/N’s eyes on me, trying to distract her from the pain. Someone mentioned needing surgery, but I was too focused on her to really take it in. My heart broke seeing her like this—so scared, so small in that hospital bed. When they finally stitched up her arm and bandaged it, a nurse came up beside me.

“Sir, I need you to sign this paperwork for us to go ahead and get her to surgery,” a nurse said, thrusting a clipboard into my face. I quickly signed it and handed it back.

“Please don’t leave me,” Y/N whimpered, her voice barely audible.

“I’ll be right here waiting for you, I promise,” I replied, leaning down to kiss her gently on the top of her head before I could stop myself. I felt an instant sense of calm wash over her from such a simple gesture.

“We’ll take good care of her. If you could go back to the waiting room, someone will come get you when she’s out,” the doctor explained, helping to wheel her out of the room. I reluctantly released her hand as they carried her away.

I made my way slowly back into the waiting room. It felt like time stood still the moment she left the room and disappeared from my sight. I realized how deeply I was in love with her, and she had been clear about how she felt about me. I hated seeing her hurt and had done everything I could to protect her from this. Now, it felt like the only way to keep her safe was to keep her close, yet at arm's length. Maybe if I kept her nearby but distant, she would be safe. Or perhaps pushing her so far away she would never want to see me again.

“Dean! Dean! Where is she?” Sam burst into the waiting room, his voice urgent.

“Slow down, you gargantuan freak,” Theresa called, running full speed behind him.

“What do you care? You don’t like her,” I snapped, standing up to face Sam.

“Yeah, but you do, and I’m obviously not going to change your mind,” Sam sighed, exasperated.

“Well, Sammy, turns out you’re right. She’s a distraction, and I just want to get as far from her as possible,” I replied, trying to maintain a straight face.

“Dean, she loves you. You’d be breaking her heart,” Theresa said softly, almost whispering.

“She’ll get over it,” I responded curtly, turning to leave the hospital. I walked out, leaving Sam and Theresa in shocked silence.

The light was so bright, and the room was spinning. I groaned and tried to sit up.

“Whoa there, take it easy,” I felt a large hand gently push me back into the bed.

“Sam? What are you doing here? Where’s Dean?” I asked, closing my eyes, hoping the spinning would stop.

“To be honest, I have no clue where Dean is, and I’m not sure why I’m here either,” Sam let out an awkward chuckle. “Look, I know I haven’t been the nicest person, but my brother—he loves you, and I guess I just have to accept that. So, truce?”

“Truce,” I replied, attempting a small smile, though it probably looked more like a grimace.

“OH. MY. GOSH. YOU’RE AWAKE!” Theresa suddenly exclaimed, startling me from where she had been sleeping against Sam.

“Woman, turn the volume down,” I groaned, still feeling disoriented.

I opened my eyes to look at her. She had jumped up from her seat and bolted to the side of my bed, pulling me into an awkward hug. Over her shoulder, I could see Sam watching her with a soft smile. The way he looked at her—the twinkle in his eye—it was clear. He was in love with her. I gave him a knowing look, and he smiled in acknowledgment before glancing at the floor. He realized he couldn’t continue acting the way he had been without being insanely hypocritical.

A doctor came in to speak with me not long after. Luckily, he said they didn’t need to use any rods or screws in my arm or ankle. I would be off my feet for at least ten weeks with my ankle, and my wrist might take sixteen weeks to heal completely, he guessed. He organized for me to come back in two weeks for follow-up X-rays and said he would be able to tell me more then. After prescribing some antibiotics, he sent me on my way.

Sam and Theresa helped me out to my car, with Sam driving us back to the hotel and dropping Theresa home on the way. Since I couldn’t use crutches, Sam had to help me into the room, placing me carefully on Dean’s bed before checking the bathroom.

“Dean’s not here, is he?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Nope, but we’re going to have to check out of here tomorrow and find somewhere else to stay until you’re healed up,” Sam said, looking out the window.

“You’re really going to stay and look after me?” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“It’s the right thing to do,” Sam shrugged, offering a small smile.

“Well, thank you,” I smiled back, genuinely touched by his kindness.

“Your mom mentioned something about heading back to Sweden, so maybe we could crash there for a while?” Sam suggested, sounding hopeful.

"Uh yeah, she’ll likely be gone for the foreseeable future, so that would work," I nodded, trying to pull myself further up on the bed to lie down. Sam quickly jumped up, helping me get more comfortable before offering to grab us some food. He took the keys to my car and left the room.

I settled in and closed my eyes, letting exhaustion take over. I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, Dean was walking through the door.

"Rise and shine, your dinner’s here, and if you don’t eat it, I will," Dean said, tossing a bag at me.

"Touch my food, and I’ll chew your arm off," I retorted, grabbing the bag that had landed against my side.

"We have to be out of this room by 10 a.m., so hurry up and eat," Dean grumbled.

"Why weren’t you at the hospital?" I asked, unwrapping a burger and taking a bite.

"Was I supposed to be at the hospital?" Dean questioned, busy packing his stuff into his duffel before leaving the room.

"You said you’d be there when I woke up," I reminded him when he walked back in.

"I said what I had to so you would calm down," Dean shrugged like it was no big deal. "Now hurry up and eat. I want to be out of here in the next hour," he said, walking off again with more of his and Sam’s stuff.

Caught off guard by Dean’s sudden change in attitude, I decided not to push the conversation further and instead focused on my food. After eating in silence, Sam helped me to my car while Dean went to check us out of the room. Sam drove my car while Dean drove his, both of us heading back to my mom’s house.

I stayed silent even once we arrived. The only time I spoke was to ask Sam to help me to my bed. Once I was comfortable, I closed my eyes and decided to ignore the brothers, who were busy in the lounge room outside my door, going back and forth about what they were supposed to do while I recovered.

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love (Revisited) Part 5

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

3.5k word count

Summary The part in which the hunt goes terribly wrong and you can't wait to be rid of The Winchesters.

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers, slow-burn

Warnings mention and description of death, and physical assault.

Note: This chapter is slightly shorter than normal but it ended exactly how I wanted it to end. Also sorry not sorry for the ending. By no means is this the end of the tale, however!

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Dean stepped out of Theresa's house, the creaking wooden porch echoing beneath his boots. The crisp evening air greeted him as he closed the door behind him. I had spent four hours daydreaming, staring at the dying grass, happily ignoring the existence of the Winchesters.

"Hey, y/n," Dean said, his voice carrying a mix of determination and weariness. "Is the truck ready to hit the road?"

A flicker of pride danced in Dean's eyes. "Yeah, she's purring like a kitten again. We're good to go."

"Then what's holding you back?" I asked, sensing there was more to Dean's hesitation.

Dean sighed, the weight of the hunt evident in the furrow of his brow. "Thing is, Sam and I figured we'd wait until nightfall before we make our move. The less attention we draw, the better."

I understood his reasoning. In the world of hunters and hunted, stealth was often our greatest ally. "Playing it safe. Smart move."

Dean nodded, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, well, you know how it goes. Better safe than sorry."

The evening cast long shadows across the front of Theresa's house as Dean joined me on the steps, a palpable tension hanging in the air. I wanted, in that moment, to move away from Dean—to stand up and run away, to hide in Theresa's house while waiting for night to fall. And yet, at the same time, I wanted to move closer to him, fall into his arms, rest against his warm, chiseled chest. I wanted to hold on to him and never let go.

Leaning back against the weathered wood, Dean cleared his throat, breaking the uneasy silence. "Hey, you've been kinda all over the place and distant today. Everything okay?"

I shifted uncomfortably, my gaze fixed on the ground as if searching for the right words. "Yeah, I'm fine, Dean. Just... thinking."

Dean arched an eyebrow, not convinced by my response. "Come on, don't give me that. I can tell something's been bothering you. You've been acting off all day."

The words weighed heavily on my tongue as I gathered the courage to speak up. "Dean, last night... I overheard your conversation with Sam," I began, my voice trembling slightly.

His reaction was a mix of surprise and concern, his green eyes searching mine for any hint of what I might have heard. "And... what did you hear?"

Taking a deep breath, I recounted the painful revelation. "Sam mentioned how he feels like I'm a distraction to you, that I might be holding you back from focusing on the hunt. And you said you'd get over me, forget about me, once you’re back in the US."

Dean's expression darkened with guilt, and I immediately regretted bringing up such a sensitive topic. "I'm sorry you had to hear that. It wasn’t fair to you."

I shook my head, reaching out to reassure him. I placed a hand firmly on his shoulder. "It's okay, Dean. I understand. You and Sam have your own worries, your own struggles. I just wanted to be honest about what I overheard."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't want you to ever feel like you're just a distraction, because you're not. You're a valuable member of the team, and I'm glad you're here with us."

"Do you see me as just a part of the team, another hunter, and nothing more?" I blurted out, the question hanging heavily between us.

Dean's expression softened, his eyes searching mine with a depth of emotion that took me by surprise. "No, of course not. You're more than that, you know?" He hesitated, as if weighing his next words carefully. "You’re important to me, y/n. More than just a team member."

A mix of relief and vulnerability washed over me as I looked at him, the weight of unspoken feelings suddenly feeling a bit lighter. "I... I’m glad to hear that."

Dean gave me a small, reassuring smile, and we fell into a companionable silence, the tension easing as the evening shadows deepened. The night was coming, and with it, a new chapter of our hunt—and perhaps, a new understanding of what lay between us.

I furrowed my brow, uncertain of his meaning. "What do you mean?"

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of Dean's lips as he spoke. "You're family, just like Sam and me. We've been through a lot together, and that means something. It means you're not just another hunter to us. You're someone we care about, someone we trust."

"It seems like Sam doesn't fully trust me," I said, my voice tinged with frustration and concern.

Dean's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Sam's always been cautious around new people, especially after everything we've been through. It's nothing personal, trust me."

His reassurance was comforting, but there was another question burning inside me, one I couldn’t ignore any longer.

"And what about you, Dean?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "How do you feel about me? Do you... have feelings for me?"

Dean's gaze softened, his features betraying a hint of vulnerability. "I... I care about you, more than I probably should. You're brave and strong, and... damn it, you've saved our asses more times than I can count."

I held my breath, waiting for him to continue, to reveal the depths of his feelings.

"But..." Dean hesitated, his gaze flickering with uncertainty. "I don’t know if it’s... more than that. I don’t know if I can allow myself to feel that way, considering everything else that's going on."

His words stung, a pang of disappointment twisting in my chest. But I understood his reluctance, his fear of opening himself up to potential pain and loss.

"It’s okay, Dean," I said, forcing a smile despite the ache in my heart. "I understand."

I forced myself up from where I was sitting and made my way back inside. Stepping into the cool interior of Theresa's house, I welcomed the quiet, seeking refuge from the intensity of the conversation with Dean.

Leaning against the wall, I closed my eyes, trying to calm the storm raging within me. The air was thick with uncertainty, each breath a struggle against the weight of my own conflicted feelings.

Outside, Dean's voice drifted through the open window, a constant reminder of the tangled mess I found myself in. But I couldn't face him right now. Not when every moment spent in his presence only deepened the confusion in my heart.

Instead of letting my mind wander, I honed in on the task ahead. All I wanted was to banish the ghost, end this nightmare, and send Dean back to the States where he belonged. With a determined sigh, I pushed aside my doubts and fears, steeling myself for the battle to come. I had a job to do, and nothing—not even the tangled mess of emotions swirling around Dean—would stand in my way.

As I prepared to face the darkness outside, a silent vow echoed in the recesses of my mind: I would banish the ghost, send Dean packing, and finally close this chapter of my life once and for all.

By the time I had pulled myself together enough to face the Winchesters again, night had fallen. The brothers were busy making plans with Theresa on how to retrieve the cursed pole from the scrapyard and bring it back to burn in her yard. Theresa, however, was stuck on how they planned to actually burn the pole, barely listening to the rest of the plan.

"While you do that, I’m going to hang by the pool and make sure your pole burning actually works," I said, moving toward my car.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up," Dean jogged over, placing a hand on my car door to stop me from leaving. "You’re not going alone. What if the spirit decides to go after you?"

"And why would the spirit come after me? Could it be because your dear brother sees me as a massive burden on you, and in turn, on him?" I crossed my arms, glaring over Dean’s shoulder at Sam, who simply huffed and rolled his eyes. "Who better to draw the spirit out and make sure it’s gone for good?"

"Exactly. I’ll come with you. Theresa can go with Sam," Dean said, glancing back at them. "I need to make sure you’re safe."

I rolled my eyes, shoved Dean’s hand out of the way, and climbed into the car. I started it up, revving the engine. Before I could make my escape, Dean dashed around to the other side of the car and jumped in. Sam got into their car, and Theresa hopped into the ute parked in front of her house. We parted ways—Theresa and Sam heading towards the junkyard, while Dean and I drove in awkward silence toward the pool. Sure, I was probably being reckless, but I couldn’t care less. I just wanted the Winchesters out of my life for good.

I could see Dean out of the corner of my eye, opening and closing his mouth, fidgeting in his seat like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. I pulled into the pool parking lot, stopping directly in front of the entry doors. I turned off the car, pocketed the keys, and exited before Dean could react.

Having broken into the pool countless times during my high school days, I knew about the hole someone had cut in the less secure side fence behind the building housing the outdoor pool pumps. Dean didn’t know this. Before he could register what was happening or even get out of the car, I locked it, smiled at him through the window, waved quickly, and bolted. I knew Dean was familiar with the Impala’s inner workings, so it wouldn’t take him long to unlock the door. But I used my head start to duck into the bushes along the side of the pool, hoping his size would slow him down or force him to take the long way around the building.

It took me less than five minutes to reach the hole in the fence. As I slipped through, my forearm caught on a sharp wire that hadn’t been cut back, and I felt warm blood trickling down my arm. Cursing under my breath, I checked the damage—a decent four-centimeter gash that might need stitches, but nothing that couldn’t wait.

Inside the building, I wandered around before settling in the adults-only area of the pool, which offered a good view of most of the interior. I pulled out my phone and shot a quick message to Theresa to check on their progress. The building was eerily quiet, so I allowed myself to relax, lying back on one of the sun chairs. If the spirit decided to make a move or if Dean entered the building, I’d hear it. Just a few more hours, and I’d be rid of the Winchesters for good.

I’d already made mental plans during the day—after this, I’d hit the road and head toward the Sunshine Coast, where there was a possible vampire nest that needed investigating. All I needed was the green light that the spirit was gone, and I’d be out of here.

As if reading my mind, my phone began to ring, jolting me back to reality. I cursed under my breath as I answered.

“Theresa, you better have a good reason for scaring the life out of me,” I nearly yelled into the phone.

“Sorry, Dean wasn’t answering,” Theresa replied quickly. “Anyway, we’ve got the pole and we’re headed back to my place. Sam thinks he’s figured out a way to not exactly burn the pole, but to burn anything that might be inside it.”

“Great. Let me know when it’s done; all is quiet here,” I sighed, glancing around the eerily silent building.

“Okay, will do.”

As Theresa hung up, I stood and began to check the building. It was strange that I’d been sitting here for so long, and yet Dean hadn’t made it inside. Part of me worried that something had happened to him, but another part couldn’t help but hope he was still stuck in the car. I made my way toward the front doors, figuring I should be able to see straight into my car from there.

I walked between the pools and the adults-only balcony, heading for the ramp that led to the front door and the changing rooms. I kept my eyes peeled, just in case Dean had managed to slip inside before I got there. A flicker of guilt tugged at me—maybe he really was trapped in the car without a way out—but then again, a part of me thought he kind of deserved it. Or worse, maybe he had decided I deserved to be alone in the building, which would be a clear sign that he had no feelings for me at all.

As I crept past the changing rooms, I glanced inside. Both were as empty and eerie as the rest of the building. Standing outside the changing rooms, where the ramp doubled back on itself toward the reception area, I realized I couldn’t see my Impala from this angle. For a moment, a wild thought crossed my mind—what if Dean had hot-wired it and driven off, leaving me here? It wouldn’t be the first time I’d deserved something like that.

I continued up the ramp, stealing one last glance into the pool area, which remained as empty as when I’d left it. When I finally turned back to the reception area, I could see the front doors and my Impala parked exactly where I’d left it—except Dean was no longer inside.

“Dean?” I called out into the empty building.

Silence greeted me. I turned away from the door, back toward the reception desk. There were only so many places he could be hiding if he’d made it inside, and I should have heard him the moment he entered. After all, those boots of his were loud and distinctive.

"Dean," I called out again, my voice echoing through the empty building as I moved toward the office space behind the reception desk. I navigated behind the counter, heading for the first of the three small offices. Each space was identical: a desk, a chair, some boxes—typical office clutter. A quick glance was all it took to confirm they were empty.

After closing the door to the third office, I turned around—and nearly ran into something.

“Jesus, Dean!” I gasped, stumbling back with my hand clutching my chest. “How are you so quiet?”

I looked up at him, but something was off. Dean’s expression was void of any emotion, his eyes vacant. This wasn’t Dean anymore. Deep down, I knew the spirit had possessed him—but why?

Without thinking, I bolted toward the pool area, fumbling to pull out my phone to call Sam and Theresa.

“Where do you think you’re going, Y/N?” The voice that came from Dean wasn’t his; it was deeper, darker, like something from a nightmare.

The sheer malice in his tone startled me so badly that I tripped, sending my phone flying down the ramp. It smashed against the wall between the changing rooms, shattering into pieces. I scrambled to gather the remnants, but the damage was done. My phone was beyond repair.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Dean—or the thing inside him—standing at the top of the ramp, watching me. I scrambled to my feet and sprinted toward the pools, my only thought to stay out of his reach until Sam and Theresa could burn the cursed pole. It had to have been at least 20 minutes since I last spoke to them; they should have been done by now.

I ducked between the pools, making a beeline for the adults-only balcony, praying that putting some distance and a fence between us might buy me a few precious moments. I raced up the stairs and slammed the gate shut behind me, shoving the nearest sun chair against it. Desperately, I grabbed another chair, but before I could secure it, Dean appeared at the top of the steps, a dark, chilling laugh escaping his lips. The kind of laugh that didn’t belong in real life, but in a horror movie.

"Oh, sweetheart, do you really think a couple of chairs in front of a gate is going to stop me?" His voice was laced with malice, sending a shiver down my spine. “I’ve already begun to think of all the ways your precious Dean could end you.”

“W-why? Why Dean?” I stammered, fear choking my voice.

“Why? Because you’re nothing but a distraction to Dean. So why not Dean? Why not give him the push he needs to remove the biggest pain in the ass in his life?” Dean—or rather, the spirit—yelled, pointing a finger violently in my direction. “It’s all right here in Dean’s head. You haunt his every waking thought. From the moment he first met you, he’s been distracted by the mere thought of you. He’s almost gotten Sam killed, gotten himself killed, all because of you. So why not have him remove the problem? Doesn’t it seem fitting?”

An evil, inhuman grin spread across Dean’s face. In a matter of seconds, the grin vanished as he smashed through the gate. I stood frozen in place, paralyzed by the horror of what he’d just said.

In a few quick strides, Dean closed the distance between us. His hand clamped around my throat, lifting me off the ground and pinning me against the wall. My eyes widened as I caught a brief flicker of recognition in his eyes—Dean was fighting to regain control—but the spirit quickly overpowered him.

Dean’s grip tightened around my throat. I clawed at his hand, gasping for air as the world began to blur. He leaned in close, his face inches from mine.

"Let's make this fun, shall we?" Dean's breath was hot against my face, laced with a twisted cruelty that didn’t belong to him.

Before I could react, Dean hurled me clear across the balcony. My body slammed into the glass wall on the opposite side with such force that I heard it crack. I barely had time to register the pain before he was on top of me again, yanking me up and slamming my back against the railing. The sound of glass shattering and falling to the ground below filled the air. I silently prayed that any second now, the pole would be burnt and the spirit would be gone. I just had to hold on.

"Sorry, Dean," I muttered, summoning every ounce of strength I had left. I kicked him hard between the legs.

He dropped me, stumbling back in pain. It was my only chance. Without hesitation, I slid through the broken glass wall, but I misjudged the height of the drop. Instead of landing on the down ramp, I plummeted to the lower level. Pain shot through me as I hit the ground, a sickening pop signaling that my ankle was dislocated.

Desperate, I began crawling, ignoring the sharp sting of broken glass slicing into my hands and knees. The chlorinated water on the floor seeped into the cuts, intensifying the agony. Behind me, I could hear the unmistakable sound of Dean’s boots on the cement floor—he had recovered quickly, too quickly.

"Now, now, Y/N. I'm going to make you regret that decision," he taunted, his voice dripping with malice.

A sharp, unbearable pain shot through my arm as Dean's boot came down on it, a loud crack echoing through the room. A bloodcurdling scream tore from my throat, but it only seemed to fuel the spirit's sadistic pleasure. Dean's hand tangled in my hair, yanking me across the floor toward the edge of the wave pool. Still clutching my hair, he lifted me and dropped me into the pool's deep end.

I knew I was in trouble. With my dislocated ankle and broken arm, there was no way I could swim back up. Even if I somehow managed to push off the bottom, Dean would just shove me under again. As I sank, I looked up at Dean’s wavy silhouette, his figure distorted by the water. My lungs burned, begging for air, but I couldn’t reach the surface. My foot brushed the bottom of the pool as the edges of my vision started to go black. This was it—the end. A strange sense of relief washed over me. Relief that Dean would no longer have to worry about me, that Sam could finally be free of his burden, and that my parents would no longer have to deal with their problem child.

Just as the darkness closed in, I saw a bright flash of light above me. Dean's silhouette crumpled to the ground, and then everything went black.

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love (Revisited) Part 4

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

3.6k word count

Summary A break in the case happens and you question if you want to be around the Winchesters anymore.

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers, slow-burn

Warnings mention and description of death

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

We wrapped up breakfast with my mum, and while Sam and Dean handled the dishes, I hurried the guys out the door to fetch the Impala before my mum could offer them anything else. As usual, she was all smiles and charm in front of others, and it took everything I had not to snap. Once we had our bags, we set off towards the car yard, hoping this time we'd finally get the Impala back.

The boys chatted ahead of me, oblivious to my inner turmoil. They sensed something was off but knew better than to pry. I had already made up my mind: I’d help them finish this case, then dive into the next one. I planned to start my research as soon as I had some alone time. I figured we’d wrap this case up in a couple of days, and I already had a strategy for digging into the next one.

At the car yard, Dean darted off to find the Impala. It took him far less time than it had taken Sam to retrieve the car earlier. Dean and Sam began stowing their weapons and gear in the truck. I tossed my suitcase onto the back seat and climbed in to wait. As I did, I spotted a t-shirt on the floor. Curious, I picked it up. It looked like one of Dean’s shirts. I brought it to my nose, confirming it was his. Before I could stop myself, I unzipped my bag and stuffed the shirt inside, quickly zipping it back up. The truck’s cab shielded me from view, so neither brother saw what I’d done.

I had no idea why I took Dean’s shirt. It wasn’t like having something of his would help me get over him—in fact, it might make things worse. Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I deserved it. After everything he’d done, I felt entitled to something of his. He’d never miss it, and it was unlikely he’d even notice it was gone. No harm done, right?

The trunk slammed shut with a resounding thud, and Sam and Dean climbed into the car. We drove the 40 minutes back to the hotel. When we pulled up, I grabbed my bag and made a beeline for my Impala. I had the keys, so there was no need to go into the hotel room. Tossing my suitcase onto the driver’s seat, I slid into the driver’s side just as Dean stopped at the room door and looked at me.

“Where are you going?” Dean asked.

“Research,” I replied curtly, revving the engine and speeding out of the parking lot.

I headed straight for the library. I needed to investigate the deaths at the pool without the distraction of the Winchesters. I parked my Impala in the library lot, grabbed my research notebook, and headed inside. The library was already bustling, and I had to wait in line at the reception desk for what felt like an eternity, though it was probably closer to 20 minutes.

When it was finally my turn, I plastered on a bright smile and used my sweetest voice.

“Hi, I’d like to book a computer and access any information you have on the Blacktown pool,” I said.

“Can I ask why?” the receptionist inquired.

“I’m working on a paper about places that seem to have persistent bad luck and exploring why some places fare worse than others.”

“That’s an interesting topic. Are there any other locations you’re interested in?”

“No, just the pool, thank you.”

“Alright, here are the login details for one of our computer cubicles. I’ll have someone bring you the rest shortly.”

“Thank you,” I said, accepting the paper with a smile.

I walked to the designated cubicle, sat down, and entered the login details. A timer appeared on the screen, indicating I had one hour of computer time before I’d need to log in again.

Determined not to waste any time, I dove into researching the deaths at the pool. Knowing we were dealing with a spirit, I figured the best approach was to compile a list of everyone who had died there. A quick Google search yielded 47 names. I scribbled them all into my notebook, ready to dig deeper when a guy around my age approached with a stack of papers and books.

“I pulled everything we have on the pool and made copies of old newspaper articles for you,” he said, handing over the materials.

I thanked him for his help and returned to my task, narrowing down the list to 30 names based on the idea that the spirit would likely see itself as a burden. Given how long the hauntings had been going on, I wasn’t surprised by the lengthy list. As the computer timer ticked down, I wrapped up my research and returned the books to the desk. I drove back to the hotel in silence, taking the longest route I could manage to avoid running into the others.

When I finally pulled into the parking lot and parked next to Dean’s Impala, I saw Dean examining the side of the car intently. I grabbed my notebook and approached him. Sure enough, there was a noticeable dent on the side, just as Sam had described. The damage didn’t seem too severe—the dent could be fixed, and the scratches looked like they would polish out.

“The damage doesn’t look too bad,” I said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, luck of the draw,” Dean replied, crossing his arms. “It’s nothing I can’t fix once we’re back at the bunker. Where have you been?”

“I was researching. I think I found our spirit. What’s the bunker?” I asked, turning to look at Dean.

“The bunker is a safe house for hunters, covered in sigils and wards, basically impenetrable by anything we hunt,” Dean explained, looking down at me. “Let’s go get Sam, and you can show us what you’ve found.”

Dean unfolded his arms and headed into the hotel room. I followed, casting one last glance at the Impala—yet another thing I felt responsible for. Inside, Dean plopped onto his bed, and Sam sat at the table, typing away on his laptop.

“Put that thing away, Sammy. Y/N here thinks she’s found our spirit,” Dean announced. Sam looked up with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey, don’t get too excited; you might pull something,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

“What did you find?” Sam asked, clearly unimpressed by my attempt at humor.

“Well, I made a list of everyone who died at the pool and narrowed it down to those the spirit might consider a burden, which leaves us with 30 names,” I said.

“How did you decide who to include on your list?” Sam inquired, his tone almost interrogative.

“From the first death, a young girl who slipped and impaled herself on a pole, there was nothing suggesting she was a burden—no health issues, mental health problems, or family issues. I ruled her out, just like the 82-year-old who had a heart attack and the 14-year-old who broke his neck while showing off,” I explained.

“Okay, I get the point. Have you figured out which of the names on your list is our spirit?” Sam asked, clearly frustrated.

“I’d start with the first person on my list. Not just because they died first, but because the article about them quoted their mother saying, ‘Even though I am heartbroken at losing her, I also feel a sense of relief knowing that she’s no longer burdened by the health issues she had to deal with in her short life.’ Sounds like a recipe for a vengeful spirit to me,” I said, crossing my arms with a smirk.

“Sounds pretty solid to me,” Dean said, glancing at Sam.

“Well, there’s only one way to know for sure,” Sam sighed in defeat.

“Salt and burn the body. One problem, though—the family had her cremated,” Dean said.

“Then something else of hers must remain. A hair, a fingernail, something,” Sam suggested.

“So, what if we split up? You guys check the burial plot, and I’ll search the pool?” I offered.

“What did you find about her death?” Sam asked, his curiosity piqued. “Do you know how she died?”

“According to the reports, she wasn’t technically at the pool when it happened. She was walking past with her family and tried to scale the fence around the pool. At that time, the top of the fence was covered in barbed wire. She managed to reach the top before falling. The portion of the fence she climbed had a post without a cover. In her fall, she impaled herself through the stomach on the pole. She was still alive when they removed her but died on the way to the hospital from extreme trauma and blood loss,” I explained.

“Is the pole still there?” Dean asked.

“I don’t think so. From the records, it was all torn down and replaced about a year ago during a major remodel. But if we’re lucky, the old fencing materials might still be in the area,” I shrugged. “If you two check the pool for the old fencing materials, I’ll look into the burial site.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dean said, standing up to get his keys.

My keys were already in my hand, so I quickly headed out of the room and into my car before either brother was ready. The less time I spent with them, the better. I drove out of the parking lot and headed toward the burial site, which was more of a hole in the wall than a traditional cemetery. I had my notebook open with the location of the girl’s ashes noted. I glanced at it occasionally, muttering the row and plot number aloud to make it seem like I knew exactly what I was doing. Distracted, I almost drove past the cemetery gates.

I parked as close as I could, took one last look at my notebook, and climbed out. The girl’s ashes were kept in a large, purpose-built building. Inside, everything was white marble, making the place feel cold and eerie. Every footstep echoed off the walls, the sound almost painfully loud. I walked to the back of the building where the older ashes were stored. From what I’d read, these had been kept in brick walls until the cemetery upgraded to something nicer—probably to justify higher prices for plots.

The back wasn’t as well-lit as the front, likely because fewer people visited. It didn’t take long to locate the nameplate for the girl. Each nameplate had a small window above it with an urn and personal items. From what I could see, nothing in the window seemed significant—mostly notes and pictures. Feeling frustrated, I decided it was a bust and headed back to my car.

I hoped the Winchesters were having better luck. As soon as I was back in my car, I sent a text to Dean letting him know the cemetery had yielded nothing. I locked my phone and tossed it into the passenger seat, hearing the almost immediate ping of his reply but choosing not to look. I didn’t want to return to the hotel or my mother’s place. I only had one other place to go.

I put the car in drive and sped out of the cemetery, navigating the familiar streets toward my old refuge. My haven away from my mother’s turmoil. I didn’t even have a chance to stop the car before a familiar, hyperactive face appeared, bounding out the front door. Theresa bounced around and screamed in her driveway as I parked.

“Y/N, you’re back!” Theresa squealed, tackling me in a hug.

“Theresa! I didn’t expect you to still be here. I honestly thought I’d have to ask your parents for your new address,” I smiled, hugging her back.

“Oh, this is my place now. Mum and Dad moved further out of the city,” Theresa shrugged. “Anyway, where have you been traveling? How much of the world have you seen? I want to know everything!”

“Ah, about that… how about I come inside and fill you in?” I suggested.

Theresa grabbed my hand and pulled me into her house. We settled on her couch, and for hours, I poured out my story. I told her how, instead of seeing the world, I’d taken up hunting. I recounted the monsters I’d encountered and the current case at the pool. I mentioned the Winchesters’ return and how, once the case was done, they’d be gone. I even spilled everything about Dean, breaking down over him. Theresa held me close, letting me cry. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen me like this; for years, it had just been the two of us.

After I finally pulled back, Theresa asked, “How do you know Dean isn’t just telling Sam what he wants to hear?”

“Dean’s a player. He admitted it himself. I don’t want to be the girl he strings along while he’s working cases,” I said.

“Y/N, I saw the way he looked at you last time they were here. If love at first sight had a look, that was it,” Theresa giggled.

“Taz, honestly, I don’t want to risk my heart. Like Sam said, hunters don’t get happily ever afters. Maybe it’s best if I learn to be cold now,” I sighed.

“Well, I can see I’m not going to change your mind, and I know arguing this with you is pointless,” Theresa shook her head. “Now, about this case you’re working on—have the boys found anything yet?”

“How should I know? My phone’s in the car.”

“Then go get it, woman!” Theresa squealed.

I reluctantly got up from the couch and made my way back outside. As I approached my car, I could already hear my phone ringing. With a sigh, I walked over to the passenger side. I cringed visibly when I saw the over 40 missed calls and nearly 100 messages from Dean. They were mostly frantic texts of “Where are you?” and “God dammit, woman, answer your phone.” Just as I was about to call him back, my phone rang again.

“Yes, Dean?” I answered.

“Oh, thank God!” Dean practically shouted. “Where have you been?”

“I was catching up with a friend. Did you find anything?” I asked, trying to keep the focus on the case.

“Now is not the time for social calls.”

“Did you find anything?” I repeated, ignoring Dean’s comment.

“Yeah, we found the pole. All the old fencing material has been moved to a scrapyard. I don’t think we’re getting it out of there,” Dean said. “But there are traces of blood inside it. I know we can’t be certain it’s hers, but I don’t want to take the chance that it isn’t.”

“Okay, give me a minute. I have an idea.” I pressed the phone to my chest and yelled back into the house, “HEY, TAZ!”

“That’s my name,” Theresa called back as she came jogging out.

“Is your brother’s ute still in the backyard?” I asked.

“What do you think?” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“Can we borrow it?”

“If we can get it to start.”

“Okay, did you hear all that, Dean?” I put the phone back to my ear.

“What’s a ute?” Dean asked.

“A truck,” I said. “Since you know a thing or two about cars, do you mind coming around to help us start it?”

“Yeah, just text me the address,” Dean sighed.

I hung up and texted Dean the address. I knew it wouldn’t take him long to get here, which bothered me a bit. I didn’t want to say anything because Theresa was clearly excited to see Sam. I sighed and sat on the steps outside Theresa’s house, waiting for them. All we needed to do was get the pole, burn the blood, and then Sam and Dean could leave. I kept reminding myself of that. I also had a small window of time to practice ignoring my feelings. After all, Dean was probably going to be the last guy I found myself crushing on. Yeah, that’s all this was—a crush. I’d get over it. What was that thing my mother always said? “You don’t love them; you lust after them. There’s a difference.” Yeah, that was it. I just needed to act like he was a friend, and eventually, that’s all he’d be—a friend.

I heard the Impala roar into the street, much like my own car would have. No wonder Theresa knew I was back before I even got in front of her house. Theresa began shaking me, squealing with excitement as the car pulled into the driveway. I stood to greet the Winchesters. Dean parked his Impala behind mine and climbed out, removing his flannel shirt as he went. He tossed it behind him, revealing his black t-shirt.

I stepped back and let Theresa take the lead. She quickly guided the boys through the house and out to the backyard. I sat back down on the front steps and waited. The sounds of Sam and Theresa’s conversation drifted through the house—Sam laughing at something she said, and Theresa’s infectious laughter in return. It seemed like Sam was enjoying himself, unlike Dean, whose presence I was trying hard to ignore.

I zoned out the sounds from inside and instead focused on the half-dead grass covering Theresa’s front yard. I began to daydream, retreating to a fantasy land I hadn’t visited since I was a teenager. I imagined a world where I had never met Dean Winchester and never fell into this life. In my fantasy, I was somewhere peaceful, far away from the complications of the real world.

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love (Revisited) Part 3

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

6.5k word count

Summary The part in which you begin to question if Dean actually has feelings for you or is just stringing you along. Also you prove your a kick ass hunter through the power of research.

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers, slow-burn

Warnings mention and description of death, s-assault, talks of people with disabilities in a negative light. Your disability doesn't make you a burden! You are amazing, you are loved!

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

I cried for what felt like an eternity, held tightly in Dean's arms. At some point, he had moved us over to sit on his bed, never once letting me go. When I finally pulled myself together enough to move away from him, I could only manage to stare at the ground in front of the bed.

"Never seen a dead body before?" Sam asked gently.

I nodded, still unable to speak, my voice too shaky to trust. The room fell into a comfortable silence. Dean stood up from the bed and began moving around, retrieving his bag from a random corner. He pulled out a Metallica shirt and brought it over to me.

"You can borrow this for now, so you don't have to go out to your car to get your own clothes," he said, handing me the shirt.

I accepted it and walked off to the bathroom to change. I hung my wet swimsuit over the towel rack and made my way back to Dean's bed. The boys nodded in acknowledgment as I crawled under the covers, hoping that if I lay there long enough with my eyes closed, sleep would eventually come. But my mind had other ideas.

As I tried to sleep, I overheard the boys talking.

"This has really shaken her, Dean," Sam said softly.

"I know, Sammy. I wanted to keep her out of this life. We're supposed to save people, not drag them into our kind of crazy," Dean replied, frustration evident in his voice.

"Come on, man. She chose this for herself. She had the opportunity to walk away, but she decided to take up this life. There's not much we can do about that."

"I just want to make sure she's somewhere I can keep an eye on her. I want her to be safe," Dean said, his voice tense.

"You can't expect her to just pack up and leave, Dean. What's gotten into you, man? You've never acted like this."

"She's... I don't know... she's different."

"You're in love."

"Dude, don't even go there," Dean snapped, ending the conversation.

The room fell silent, and eventually, I drifted off. When I woke up, it was dark outside. The cheap alarm clock next to the bed read 4:30 a.m. I sat up and looked around the room. Dean was asleep on the lounge, and Sam was in his bed. I felt too restless to sleep, so I quietly tiptoed across the room to grab Sam's laptop from the table. I took it back to Dean's bed and started going over the information Sam and Dean had gathered while I was asleep. It seemed they hadn't gotten much further than I had.

I knew burying myself in the case wasn't the smartest thing to do, but I needed to stop whatever was happening from hurting anyone else. But since we had all arrived at a dead end, it meant we needed to look at this from a different angle. I closed Sam's laptop and snuck out to my car to grab a change of clothes. I quietly slipped into the bathroom, changed out of Dean's shirt, retrieved Sam's laptop from the bed, and slipped quietly out of the hotel room. Rather than take my car and risk waking the boys, I decided to walk. I just wanted food and free Wi-Fi, and there was only one place I knew where I could get both: McDonald's.

I walked the six blocks to the nearest McDonald's, ordered more hash browns than should be legally allowed, and took a seat in a back corner while I waited for them to be ready. I opened Sam's laptop and began going over all the information again. I pulled up the details on all the victims and the pool, rereading everything. My hash browns arrived, and I ate them while pouring over the information, but nothing stood out. Twelve deaths now, and there seemed to be no connection between them—different ages, races, genders, religions. Not a single overlap, and nothing that stood out as a reason why these people.

Even when I removed deaths that could reasonably be discounted, like the first death or the boy who apparently slipped down the stairs and the twins who drowned in the wave pool, the puzzle still didn’t add up. It was frustrating. I groaned and sank back into the highly uncomfortable plastic chair. I took a glance around the now busy McDonald's, then checked the time in the bottom right-hand corner of the laptop. 6:23 p.m. My eyes widened as I realized I'd been sitting in the same spot all day. I hurriedly packed up the laptop and went to retrieve my phone, confused as to why Sam or Dean hadn’t been trying to call me all day. My hands rummaged through my pockets, coming up empty. I dumped out my messenger bag, finding nothing. Shit. I mentally cursed.

I quickly shoved everything back into my bag before sprinting into the parking lot, hoping I had simply left my phone in the car. A quick glance, however, showed no sign of my car. Right, I walked here. I groaned, rubbed my hands over my face, and began the walk back to the hotel. Dean was probably thinking I'd done something stupid, and Sam probably thought I stole his laptop. I mean, technically, I did, but I was going to return it, and I never intended to be gone all day.

The walk back to the hotel seemed to take twice as long as the walk to McDonald's. But when the hotel finally came into sight, I quickened my pace. I came to a quick stop, however, when I heard arguing in the room.

“I’m telling you, Dean, she might not come back,” Sam yelled. “And she probably took more than just my laptop.”

“Oh, so you think she took your laptop and God knows what else but left behind her phone and her car that cost way more than anything we own?”

“I mean, how well do we really know her, Dean?”

“If I may intercede, could it not be that she is somewhere researching the case and that time ran from her grasp?” A third voice I didn’t recognize chimed in.

“What…do you mean time got away from her?” Dean asked, baffled.

“Is that how you say it? If so, that’s what I meant to say,” the voice responded.

“Hate to say it, Sammy, but I agree with the angel,” Dean said.

I reached out and knocked on the door, not wanting to barge in while tempers were clearly high. The room fell silent. Heavy boot steps made their way towards the door. There was a moment of silence before a quiet "Thank God" could be heard from the other side of the door. The door swung open to reveal just Dean and Sam in the room. I was certain I had heard a third voice. I stepped quietly past Dean into the room. From the look on Sam’s face, I could tell Dean must have made some gesture behind me directed at him. I glanced toward the bathroom, expecting to see the third person, or at least for the door to be closed, signaling someone was inside. But to my shock and confusion, the door was open, and the bathroom was empty.

“Who were you talking to?” I asked, looking between them, confused.

“We weren’t talking to anyone,” Dean said, glancing over at Sam. “Maybe you heard the TV,” he motioned to the TV that was on but muted.

“Anyway, where have you been?” Sam asked, changing the subject, though he was clearly still mad at me.

“I went to McDonald's to use their Wi-Fi and continue researching. I was up at 4:30, and I didn’t want to wake you,” I explained, looking over at Dean, who had moved to sit on the end of his bed. “Sorry I took your laptop without asking, Sam. I left mine behind at my mother’s when she kicked me out.”

I handed Sam back his laptop. He took it without so much as a thank you and immediately began checking it over. I wanted to scoff and roll my eyes but knew that would only piss him off more.

“So, did you find anything?” Dean asked.

“Nothing. I even tried removing the deaths that could reasonably be written off as accidents, and even that didn’t resolve anything. I am, however, confident that we’re likely dealing with a vengeful spirit,” I said.

“And how did you reach that conclusion?” Sam scoffed, tossing his laptop on his bed.

“We’ve ruled out burial grounds and anything sacred. Then, if you look at location and the fact that all the deaths were witnessed and nothing supernatural was seen, it leaves a very short list. Of that list, I felt that a spirit was the most likely,” I explained, keeping my eyes locked with Sam.

“Why a vengeful spirit? Why not a water sprite?” Sam asked with a smirk.

“Seriously, Sammy? A fairy? Have you ever, in all your years of hunting, found any reliable concrete evidence that fairies are real?” I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms, met with silence from Sam. “That’s what I thought. Spirit it is.”

Dean sat on his bed, a smirk plastered on his face, clearly amused. “So if that’s the case, then I guess we should head back to the pool and ask more about these deaths,” Dean said, clapping his hands together.

Sam silently huffed and made his way to the door. Dean muttered something along the lines of "he’ll get over it" before moving to the bathroom. I heard the shower turn on while I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. With nothing else to do for the night and both boys otherwise occupied, I retrieved Dean’s shirt from the corner where I had tossed it that morning and got ready for bed. I was just chilling on the bed, enjoying a nice stretch and yawn when Dean stepped out of the bathroom in nothing but his towel. The boy really knew how to make a girl blush.

“Sorry, the room was quiet, so I just thought you’d, you know, left,” Dean said awkwardly.

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, unable to form a proper sentence. Dean seemed frozen in place too, his expression unreadable. My eyes wandered over Dean’s chiseled chest. It was clear he worked out—a necessity in his line of work, but it still caught me off guard. Before I could stop myself, I was standing in front of him, my hand reaching out to trace the contours of his chest down to his stomach. His skin was marred with old scars, and I felt the muscles twitch beneath my touch.

Dean placed a finger under my chin, gently lifting my head so our eyes met. The intensity in his gaze made my heart race. Neither of us moved for several moments, locked in a silent standoff. When it became clear neither of us was going to break away, Dean began to close the distance between us.

“I brought dinner,” Sam suddenly announced, walking in the door.

Dean and I jumped apart, startled, as Dean made a beeline for his clothes, quickly pulling on a shirt before heading back into the bathroom. I silently cursed Sam for the interruption. He glanced awkwardly between the now-closed bathroom door and me, clearly realizing he had walked in at the worst possible moment. Sam didn’t say anything, and I took a seat at the table as he began to silently dish out the fast food he’d bought. Dean’s and my dinner was burgers, while Sam had opted for some kind of salad. Dean emerged from the bathroom moments later, fully clothed. He grabbed his burger and fries and left the room, mumbling something about going to see a friend.

Sam and I ate in silence before he went to shower. I retreated to Dean’s bed, pulling his shirt up over my nose to breathe in his scent. The comforting mix of sandalwood, leather, whiskey, and gasoline filled my senses, but I was jolted back to reality when Sam suddenly exited the bathroom and started talking.

“What’s happening between you and Dean?”

“I...uh…what do you mean?” I stammered, caught off guard.

“After we left last time, Dean kept talking about you. He was hoping we’d see you again, but at the same time, he was hopeful you’d listen to him and take his advice,” Sam said as he sat on his bed. “He clearly loves you, but I don’t think having you around is best for Dean.”

“If there was anything between Dean and me, it would be none of your business,” I snapped, my anger flaring. “I love Dean. I’ve felt myself falling for him from the moment I met him. I hoped you guys would come back, but I accepted that you probably wouldn’t. Besides, who are you to say what’s best for Dean?”

“I’m his brother,” Sam yelled, his voice filled with frustration. “Having you around is distracting him, and in this line of work, distraction guarantees death.”

Sam’s outburst scared me, and all I could muster was a quiet “Goodnight, Sam” before curling up in Dean’s bed. Sam stormed out of the room, and moments later, I heard the roar of Dean’s Impala as it drove off. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I cried myself to sleep in the now quiet room.

When I woke the next morning, Sam and Dean were already discussing their game plan for the day. I sat up in bed, listening to their conversation before heading to the bathroom for a quick shower. After getting dressed, I packed my swimsuit into a bag and slung it over my shoulder. Dean grabbed his car keys and asked if I was joining them in his car or if I’d be driving my own. I chose to go with Dean to save on gas. The less money I had to spend, the better.

We drove in silence until we reached the pool. The parking lot was nearly empty. Dean found a spot close to the entrance, parked, and turned off the engine. He asked me to go in ahead of them to check if the police were still around. I made my way into the building, scanning the area from the reception desk. There was no crime scene tape, and no signs of police presence.

“Sad, wasn’t it?” a voice said from behind me.

“What?” I asked, turning to see a woman standing beside me.

“Didn’t you hear about the suicide two days ago?” she asked.

“Oh, they ruled that a suicide?” I replied, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah, they said the girl had been sexually assaulted a couple of weeks ago, and that was apparently her breaking point. Poor thing.”

I nodded in agreement as the woman walked off towards the pools. I headed back outside to inform the boys, who were now dressed in their suits and digging through the trunk. I wasn’t going to question when or how they had changed. I grabbed my bag from the back seat and filled them in on the details of the recent death. Dean and Sam exchanged a knowing look before we all headed back into the pool. I paid to swim while Sam and Dean flashed their badges, continuing their story about investigating on behalf of a victim’s family.

As Sam and Dean went off to speak with the staff, I wandered around the pool area, trying to piece together anything that could help with the case. I checked an information wall in the reception area, but it said nothing about the incidents. I walked around to the locations where the previous accidents had occurred but found nothing out of the ordinary. Frustrated, I was about to head back to Sam and Dean when I overheard two familiar voices that made my blood run cold.

“I swear she was here the other day with two hot guys.”

“Oh my god, I always knew she was such a slut. You watch—soon she’ll be pregnant and won’t have any idea who the father is.”

“Look, there she is.”

“Hi, Rachel. Jordan. Do you work here too?” I asked, panic slowly creeping in.

“Yeah, what of it? It pays well,” Jordan replied, crossing her arms.

“Oh, okay. I-I was just going to go for a swim while I wait for my boyfriend to finish up.”

“Boyfriend or boyfriends?” Rachel snickered.

Not wanting to continue the conversation, I quickly turned and fled. I had been outside in a general seating area, but I made my way back into the main swimming complex. I spotted Sam talking with a lifeguard near the wave pool, but I didn’t want to face him after last night, so I hurried on, continuing my search for Dean. It wasn’t until I saw him speaking with the man behind the snack counter that I realized how badly I was shaking. Dealing with my high school bullies had rattled me more than I wanted to admit.

I changed direction and headed for the changing rooms instead. I needed to calm down before continuing the investigation. If there was one thing I agreed with Sam on, it was that distractions could get me killed. I made my way to the sinks and splashed some cool water on my face, staring at myself in the mirror as I tried to push down the anger and fear that were consuming me. Fear of the bullies and anger at myself for still not having the courage to stand up to them. After a few deep breaths, I dried my face and headed back out to the pool area where I had last seen Dean.

A quick glance at the snack counter told me he was no longer there, starting my search for him all over again. Luckily, it didn’t last long. I spotted him in the adults-only area above one of the 25-meter pools, which had sun chairs and a spa. Unfortunately, he was speaking with them. I sucked in a deep breath and walked towards the area, steeling myself. I walked up beside Dean and laced my fingers with his, standing silently by his side as I listened to their conversation. Dean was asking questions about the other accidents that had occurred at the pool, but at the same time, he was absentmindedly rubbing circles into my hand with his thumb. It was incredibly distracting, and I found myself staring at our hands, lost in thoughts about last night.

"Here’s a question: How does someone as unattractive as her end up with someone as handsome as you?" My head snapped up to see Rachel giggling at her own comment.

"Yeah, it just doesn’t add up unless you’re only with her because of her money," Jorden chimed in.

"Or maybe because she was easy to get into bed," Rachel added with a laugh.

"Shut up, both of you," Dean said sharply, turning to face them. "Y/N is the most beautiful, amazing, intelligent, sweetest person I’ve ever met. God knows I don’t deserve her, but here she is right next to me, and that makes me one hell of a lucky bastard." He said this with a look of intense sincerity before turning back to me with a smile.

I was stunned into silence, my cheeks burning with a deep blush. Clearly, Dean’s words had left them speechless too, as they quickly excused themselves. Dean watched them leave before turning back to me.

"So, did you find anything?" Dean asked, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Oh, uh, a woman told me that the death the other day has been ruled a suicide and that the girl had been assaulted about a week ago," I said.

"Assaulted? Did she mention if the friend who was with her here was also there then?" Dean asked, a sudden realization crossing his face.

"No, she didn’t. Why?" I asked, puzzled.

"I think I know what’s going on. We need to find Sam," Dean said urgently.

Dean, still holding my hand, led me out of the adults-only area. He scanned the pools and seating areas before dragging me up the ramps toward the reception. Dean’s determined stride must have looked intimidating, a grown man pulling what appeared to be a teenage girl. I felt the eyes of the onlookers on us as we reached the reception and practically sprinted to Sam, who was talking to someone at the desk.

Sam looked at our interlaced hands with a questioning expression before Dean, realizing we were still holding hands, awkwardly let go. He rubbed his hand on his suit jacket before shoving it into his pants pocket and waited for Sam to finish his conversation. Sam thanked the receptionist and led us to a more private corner.

"I think I’ve figured out what’s going on here, Sammy," Dean said before Sam could speak.

"Well, fill us in," I said, both exhausted from running and impatient.

"I’m pretty sure our spirit is viewing these people as burdens on those closest to them," Dean explained.

"Care to elaborate?" Sam asked, crossing his arms.

"One lifeguard mentioned that the American victim’s mother said they were here to see a world-class behavioral specialist to help calm down the kid. Another lifeguard told me that one of the victims fell over the railing from the spa area to the concrete below—she was in a wheelchair, and she died instantly," Dean said.

"And the assault—she would have been depressed," I whispered.

"So what? That doesn’t bring us any closer to figuring out who the spirit is," Sam said. "It could be someone who felt like a burden or someone who saw others as a burden."

"Then we need to look at all the deaths and figure out who fits the pattern and who doesn’t. We know it has to be someone who died here," I said, looking between them.

"Then let’s investigate each victim more closely," Dean agreed.

Sam and I nodded, and we all headed to the parking lot. As we stepped outside, Dean was rummaging for his car keys, Sam was absorbed in his phone, and I was staring at the ground. None of us paid much attention to the parking lot until Dean looked up, his face contorted with anger.

"What the hell?!" he exclaimed. Sam and I turned to see the empty space where the Impala had been.

"Oh dear, was that your car?" A familiar voice came from behind us.

"You bitch!" Dean shouted, storming toward Jorden.

"I’m sorry, but the car was illegally parked," Jorden said, unfazed by Dean’s rage. She maintained a smirk as Dean nearly confronted her.

"Baby was parked perfectly!" Dean yelled in her face.

"Well, not when I came out," Jorden said with a dismissive shrug, turning on her heel and walking back into the building.

"Come on, I know the way to the impound lot," I sighed, leading the way.

Dean walked beside me, while Sam trailed behind us, his gaze burning into the back of my head. I had no idea what his problem was. All we needed to do was finish the case, and then they could go back to the U.S., where they wouldn’t have to see me again—assuming no more cases came up here. The walk to the impound lot took nearly 45 minutes, during which Sam’s intense stare and Dean’s monologue about his car made the time drag. I stayed silent, plagued by the thought that if I hadn’t been here, Jorden wouldn’t have targeted Dean, and Sam wouldn’t be so worried.

"Oh, thank God," Dean said suddenly, breaking my reverie.

"Oh, we’re here," I said, looking at the impound lot sign in a daze.

"Hey, Sammy, why don’t you go get the car, and I’ll wait out here with Y/N?" Dean said, his voice tinged with concern.

Sam scoffed, rolled his eyes, and walked into the lot. I watched him disappear among the rows of cars, some crushed and piled high. Dean observed me watching Sam, and once he was sure Sam was out of earshot, he spoke.

"What’s going on with you?" Dean asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Huh? What? N-nothing is wrong," I stuttered.

"Don’t even try it, short stack. You’ve been silent since we left the pool. So are you going to tell me what the problem is, or am I going to have to make you talk about it?" Dean’s voice grew serious.

"Honestly, it’s fine. It’s probably just in my head," I tried to smile.

"Oh no, you’re not getting out of it that easily," Dean said firmly. "Now spill."

"It’s just that I feel like I’m the problem," I sighed. "Everything that’s happened today could have been avoided if I weren’t here. Hell, everything that happened last night might have been prevented too if I think about it." I hugged myself awkwardly.

"Okay, first off, you are not the problem. You’re far from it," Dean said, uncrossing his arms and pointing at me. "Secondly, I never want to hear you call yourself a problem again."

“Well, Sam seems to think I’m a pretty big issue, and Jorden only did what she did because of me,” I said, my voice breaking as tears began to fall. Before I could stop them, Dean had me wrapped in his arms. One arm was around my back, his thumb gently rubbing my arm, while the other hand cradled my head against his chest. He kissed the top of my head and rested his chin lightly on it.

"I’ll talk to Sam," Dean said softly. "And as for those girls, I think they’d have been snobby no matter who was here."

I nodded, resting against Dean. It felt like an eternity before Sam returned. Dean released me, and we put some space between us. We talked about Jorden and Rachael, recounting their high school antics. I admitted how I still felt like a failure for not standing up to them. Dean, however, pointed out how he’d noticed the envy in their eyes whenever they saw me. He even mentioned how he’d make it obvious he was checking me out, just to see them squirm with jealousy. I chuckled at that, wishing I could’ve seen their faces.

Sam arrived with four bags of stuff but no Impala.

“Where’s Baby?” Dean asked, his anger palpable.

“Sorry, Dean. They’re right about to close. I paid the fine, and they said we could pick up the car in the morning,” Sam explained.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean cursed. “Did you at least check for damage?”

“Uh...” Sam looked nervously between Dean and the pavement. “The passenger side is dented. It looks like they pushed it with another car. Sorry, Dean.”

“SON OF A BITCH!” Dean yelled.

I quickly placed a hand on Dean’s arm to get his attention. “It’s okay, Dean. We can go to my mum’s place for the night. She won’t be home anyway, and we can come back first thing in the morning to get Baby and assess the damage then.”

“I’m gonna kill them,” Dean’s voice trembled with anger as he tried to calm down.

I took Dean’s hand in mine and began leading him away from the impound lot. Sam asked how far the walk was and how I could be so sure my mum wouldn’t be home. I told them it was about a 20-minute walk—a distance I knew well from my teenage years, dealing with my car being impounded for various reasons. My mum worked abroad most of the year, managing a large baby and children’s business. She was rarely home, spending her time between London and Sweden. I’d been looking after myself since I was 14, often hosting friends like Theresa to avoid feeling too alone.

By the time I finished explaining, we were at my mum’s house. I led them down the steep driveway to the side gate. It was unlocked, so I lifted the metal latch and walked into the small backyard, which hadn’t changed since my last visit. I entered through the sliding door into an open living room, kitchen, and dining area, with a staircase leading upstairs.

“Those two lounges are pull-out sofa beds,” I pointed to the metal sofas that looked like they were from the '80s. “I’ll be sleeping through that sliding door, which is my old room. The door next to it is a bathroom with another sliding door into my room.”

“Oh, I have to see your room,” Dean said with a laugh.

He went straight for the sliding door, pushing it open and stepping inside. His immediate burst of laughter drew Sam in, and I followed, feeling embarrassed by the state of my room. The pink and purple walls, the fairy bedspread, and, most mortifying of all, the life-sized cutout of Gerard Way taped to the ceiling above my bed.

“Are you sure you have the right house?” Sam laughed. “I mean, come on—fairies?”

“It was a phase,” I huffed.

“Sam, did you see the poster on the ceiling?” Dean laughed.

“Oh, get out, both of you,” I said, waving my arms around.

The boys left the room, still chuckling. I locked the sliding door and the bathroom door, craving a moment of peace and a hot shower. I rummaged through my cupboard, found an old band shirt I used to sleep in, and headed for the shower. As the hot water washed away the day’s stress, I allowed myself to relax. Afterward, I dressed, dried off, and climbed into bed. In the silence, I heard Sam and Dean speaking softly in the lounge area.

“She’s a distraction for you, Dean,” Sam’s voice was hushed but intense.

“That doesn’t give you the right to upset her. Besides, once we’re through this case, we can go home, and you can go back to pretending she never existed,” Dean replied.

“But you won’t. You’ll always wonder if she’s okay, if she’s alive,” Sam said. “This is why hunters don’t get happily ever afters.”

“Don’t worry so much, Sammy. Once we’re home, I can hit up a few bars, get laid, and get her out of my system. It’s worked in the past; why wouldn’t it work this time?”

I couldn’t listen anymore. I looked up at the poster on my ceiling and cried, letting the tears come until I fell asleep, just as I had on so many nights in that room.

“You know she’s different, Dean,” Sam said.

“Oh yeah? How would you know that?” Dean asked.

“You love her. It’s obvious,” Sam shrugged. “After we were here last, you kept bringing her up. You literally got every form of social media to track her down and see what she was up to. You were worried about her then, but now that you have her number, what happens if she doesn’t message or call you? What will you do?”

“You know what? I’m done with this conversation,” Dean said, turning his back to Sam, trying to get some sleep.

Suddenly, I was jolted awake by a familiar voice yelling from the lounge room. “Who the hell are you? Why are you in my house?”

It was my mother. I jumped out of bed and raced into the lounge.

“Mum, it’s okay. They’re my friends,” I said, stepping into the room.

“Y/N, what are you doing here? I thought you were traveling and had no intention of ever coming back,” Mum said.

“We just needed somewhere to crash for the night while Dean’s car gets fixed. We’ll head out in the morning. Honestly, I didn’t think you’d be home.”

“I wasn’t. I just flew in early this morning from London. Are you going to introduce your friends?” Mum asked, gesturing to Sam and Dean.

“This is Sam and that’s Dean. They’re brothers,” I said, pointing to each one.

“Are you sleeping with them?” Mum asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Mum! Seriously, why would you ask that?” I almost shouted.

“Sorry, ma’am, we’re just friends. Travel buddies,” Dean spoke up, trying to defuse the situation.

“Oh, American. I see. Figures you’d end up with someone American. It was always going to be that or someone British,” Mum shrugged.

“Seriously, Mum,” I sighed.

“What? I’m just stating the facts. Would you boys like breakfast before you all rush off? God knows my daughter can’t stand me, and now that she knows I’m home, she’ll be dying to leave as soon as possible,” Mum said dramatically.

“That sounds great, thank you very much,” Sam said with a smile.

I sighed and went back to my room to change. I grabbed another old band shirt and a pair of ripped skinny jeans, then packed a suitcase with items I should have brought earlier—my laptop, extra clothes, and my jewelry box. I placed the suitcase next to the boys’ duffle bags and headed upstairs to the kitchen.

Sam and Dean were already at the dining table, chatting and laughing with my mum, who was busy cooking pancakes. I sat silently at the table, listening to their conversation. Dean seemed to be getting along great with my mum, which only made the previous night more painful. I knew I was falling for him, but if he planned to leave, return to the U.S., and pretend I never existed, why make a big deal about not letting me out of his sight? Why go out of his way to comfort me?

“Okay, breakfast is ready,” Mum said cheerfully.

“Oh, this looks amazing, Miss Y/L/N. Thank you,” Dean said, taking the plate of pancakes from my mum and placing it on the table. The boys began to dig in, enjoying what was probably their first home-cooked meal in a long time. The conversation with my mother continued effortlessly, and I couldn’t help but notice how convincingly Dean lied about how we met, what they did for a living, and why they were in Australia. It made me question if everything he’d told me was a lie. Maybe I needed to be more like Dean and just move on after this case was over.

Thought it was about time I gave an update/schedule. I'm going away for a week over Christmas to see family but I'm hoping to post something New Year's Eve before I hit the town. I'm not going to give exact dates for when I'll post parts cause lord knows I will never stick to it lol. Also I'm working on a novel that I hope I'll actually finish this time and get published so we'll see how that goes I guess. So for now this is the plan:

Dec 2023:

Supernatural: Hunting, Living and Love (SHLL) Part 3

Dating Oddessy: Eddie

Jan 2024:

SHLL Part 4

Dating Oddessy: Jim

SHLL Part 5

Dating Oddessy: Billy

Feb 2024:

SHLL Part 6

Dating Oddessy: Jonathan

SHLL Part 7

I also have a bunch of other ideas that I may drop in here or there just to break it up a bit. If you have any requests let me know and I'll add those to my list too!

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love (Revisited) Part 2

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

4.5k word count

Summary After completely ignoring Deans warning you find yourself reunited with the Winchesters after a perplexing case brings them back down under.

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

Warnings mention and description of death

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

It's been a year since I met the Winchesters. I tried to return to my old life, but the knowledge that there were creatures out there that could kill me at any moment made it impossible to concentrate. So, I decided to hit the road. I packed my most important belongings into my car and left everything else at my mom's. I dropped out of university and began searching for other hunters. The Winchesters didn’t leave me a how-to guide on hunting monsters, so I had to figure it out on my own. I traveled far and wide, leaving messages for hunters wherever I could—monster books in libraries, notice boards, online chat rooms, you name it. After two months of relentless searching, I was finally contacted by a guy named Johnny. Johnny owned a roadhouse near Broken Hill, one of the few hubs for hunters. He gave me a list of known hunters' hubs, a list of essential tools, and a job to get me started. "An easy find and burn," he said. He advised me to call him for jobs for now and assured me that I would gradually learn how to find my own hunts. And that's how I ended up on the job I'm working today.

I had driven through the night to get back to Sydney, to the suburb of Blacktown where my story began. It was the first time I'd been back since everything that happened with the boys. This time, a similar case had brought me back: a ghost causing accidents at the local pool, leading to 11 deaths so far. Something needed to be done soon. The latest incident occurred just a week before. A paraplegic kid had seemingly stood up from her wheelchair, climbed onto a diving board, and dove headfirst onto the cement below. The ghost was escalating its attacks, putting this case at the top of my list. Before tackling the case, though, I needed to rest. I decided to book into a hotel, take a hot shower, eat, and sleep. I had only enough money for one night, so I found a cheap hotel close to the pool with vacancies and pulled in. As I parked and hopped out of my car, a certain vehicle caught my eye. Everything else was quickly forgotten as I ran to the room the car was parked in front of. I stopped to catch my breath before knocking on the door.

"Well, well, look who we have here," Dean said, crossing his arms with a smirk as he opened the door.

"Hey, Dean," I smiled.

"Y/N, is that you?" Sam asked, appearing behind Dean.

"In the flesh," I replied. "What brings you two back to town?"

"We're working this case," Dean explained. "A friend of ours called after getting a tip from a hunter here—some ghost killing a bunch of people at a pool."

"What a coincidence. I'm working that case too. It's been on my radar for the last three months, but it's really ramped up in the last month, so I figured I should probably get my ass back here and take care of it."

"I thought I told you to stay away from all this," Dean suddenly snapped, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

"I tried, Dean. I really did. But I couldn't shake it. I was second-guessing everything and everyone, and I felt like I needed to do this to feel safe," I said, recoiling at his words.

"I told you there were other people like us doing this job so you could be safe. Trust me, this isn't the life you want."

"You packed up and went back to the States. You left me here where there are barely any hunters. What did you expect me to do?" I snapped back.

"I expected you to listen to me!" Dean yelled, jabbing a finger toward the ground.

I flinched away from Dean, and he immediately noticed. The regret on his face was clear. He tried reaching out to touch my arm, but I moved back. Sighing, he stepped aside, allowing me into the room. Sam motioned for me to come over to the sole table where he was working on his laptop. Dean, meanwhile, moved to sit on his bed on the opposite side of the room. Sam ran me through everything they had found so far. He mentioned a friend of theirs named Bobby, who had been contacted by a local hunter overwhelmed by the case. It was something I had noticed too, and it had only motivated me more to become a hunter. Over the past year, I had been taking on the harder cases that other hunters struggled with. I had made contacts at all the hunters’ roadhouses in Australia and had hardly had a day to myself since. I told Sam about Johnny, a name he instantly recognized. Apparently, Johnny had been the one to call Bobby, requesting the boys' help after many other hunters had come up short.

"What have you found so far?" I asked Sam.

"Well, the earliest accident recorded at the pool was two months after it opened," Sam replied.

"I found that too during my initial research. She was running, slipped on the wet floor, and got impaled on a sign pole. Not a nice way to go, but it doesn't seem like something to create a vengeful spirit," I said.

"My thoughts exactly," Sam sighed. "But I can't find anything about the place being built on a burial ground or sacred site or anything."

"So, what you're saying is there's no reason for these deaths to be ramping up at this joint?" Dean finally joined the conversation.

"Well, none we can find," I said. "This is why I've avoided the case for so long. Every time I've looked into it, I haven't been able to find a reason. Nothing I know of could be causing this, nothing Johnny knows of could be causing this. Maybe Bobby might know something?"

"I'll call him," Sam sighed.

Sam grabbed his phone and left the room. I looked at Dean in confusion. We were working this case together, so why would Sam leave? Dean mumbled something about Sam thinking best when he was walking around. I just shrugged and stayed at the table, waiting for Sam to come back. Dean and I fell into an uncomfortable silence. I knew he wasn't happy with me being here and giving everything up to become a hunter, but I didn’t see any other choice. I understood the dangers; I knew a hunter's life was often short. But if it meant making a difference while I was still here, then so be it. Dean needed to understand this.

"Dean..."

"Save it. I know I won't be able to change your mind, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let you leave my side," Dean said, looking over at me. "I wanted to save you from this life. I wanted you to walk away and never look back. I don't want you to end up broken like me."

"It's not like I have anything to lose. My father abandoned me, my mother and I barely talk, and I don’t exactly have any other family. Just friends, and as far as they know, I came into a small fortune and I'm off traveling the world," I sighed.

"Sounds like every hunter origin story I've heard before," Dean chuckled coldly.

"Why? What's your story?" I asked.

"Mum died, Dad abandoned us, then he died. I'm one of the lucky ones, though, because I got Sammy. And I guess now I have your dumbass to look out for too," Dean smiled at me.

"You make that sound like a bad thing," I laughed.

"Oh, it is. You're a pain in my ass," Dean laughed too.

"Who, me? Nah, I'm delightful."

Sam walked back into the room, greeted by the sight of Dean and me laughing our asses off, a stark contrast to how he had left us. He looked between us before awkwardly starting to explain that Bobby would investigate the situation, contact some other hunters in the area, and call Sam back if he found anything. Until then, Dean decided it would be best if we grabbed some food and called it a night. Dean left Sam and me to clean up the table while he went to get what he called the world’s smallest McDonald’s burgers. Sam and I just shook our heads at him and continued to tidy up. We talked about what the guys had been up to since they were last here and everything I had done. Sam was quite impressed at how quickly I had learned to spot signs of the supernatural and my ability to research and handle problems. It turned out they had heard from Bobby about a badass new hunter on the scene out here, but they had no clue it was me. It didn’t take us long to clean off the table, and soon Dean returned with the food. He dumped the bags on the table and began tossing burgers at each of us, cursing when he reached for the fries and found they had all fallen out in the bag. Sam and I shook our heads at Dean and started on our burgers while he fixed the fries. After we had eaten, we all agreed to get some sleep while waiting for Bobby to get back to us. Sam went off to shower first while Dean kicked off his shoes and flopped onto the bed. I, on the other hand, moved toward the door, planning to book my room for the night.

"Where are you staying?" Dean suddenly asked, stopping me in my tracks.

"Going to book a room for tonight, then probably sleep in my car until this is over. Why?" I turned back towards Dean.

"You can't be serious."

"Well, normally I'd loo or a free campground, but we're in the middle of a city. Luckily, I recently found this really cool inflatable bed thing. You move the seats forward, put it in the back seat, and it acts like a real bed. It's actually pretty comfortable," I rambled.

"Like hell you're sleeping in your car. Take my bed, and I'll take the couch," Dean grumbled, getting up from his bed. "Besides, it saves you the money you'd spend on a room for a single night."

"Dean, I can't kick you to the lounge again," I sighed.

"Nonsense. Hunters need a safe place to sleep."

"We don’t exactly get paid, Dean. I do odd jobs in the towns I’m in between or sometimes even during hunts, just to get enough to eat and to put fuel in my car. I can’t afford a hotel room."

"And that’s where credit card scams come in," Dean smirked.

"How? I mean, you’d need fake IDs and birth certificates, not to mention the limits. Eventually, they’d cut the card off."

"Bobby hooks us up with a whole host of fake IDs—cops, FBI, CIA, you name it. The trick with credit cards is to get the card with the highest limit. For instance, a card with a $10,000 limit before repayments are needed. Use it for the case, and before you get out of dodge, withdraw the remaining amount. That way, when they come looking for Mr. Hector Rodriguez, it looks like he never left town."

"Jesus, Dean, that’s insane."

"That’s the life," Dean shrugged, making himself comfy on the lounge.

I took off my shoes and made myself comfortable on the bed while waiting for Sam to finish with the shower. I had planned to use the bathroom to change, but I must have been more tired than I realized because I nodded off. I woke up the next morning to an empty room and noticed that Dean’s Impala was gone too. They must have heard back from Bobby and headed off to chase a lead. It kind of sucked that they didn’t wake me up first, but there was nothing I could do about it now. I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, mostly for background noise, before heading to my car to grab a change of clothes. With clothes in hand, I went to the bathroom for a shower. I always found that the shower was the best place to organize my day. I turned the water on, cranking up the heat until it was almost unbearable. As the shower screen fogged up, I began to write out my plan for the day. First, I needed to find some breakfast, then I needed to locate the guys. The problem was, I didn’t have either of their numbers and wasn’t keen on driving aimlessly around the city to find them. After washing up, I begrudgingly turned off the water. As I reached for a towel, I was horrified to realize there were only two towels in the bathroom. I rummaged through the room but found no additional towels. I returned to the bathroom, eyeing the two towels on the rack. At this point, I was almost dry, so I grabbed the obviously unused towel and quickly dried myself off, hanging the towel back as neatly as possible when I was done. Once I was dressed and dry, I grabbed my phone and keys before heading out to my car. I was honestly surprised that Dean had managed to pick out which car was his and which was mine. The engine roared to life as I settled into the driver's seat. I drove to McDonald's to grab a breakfast deal. After I got my food, I figured I might as well continue investigating the case on my own. As I waited in the drive-through, I pulled out my phone to continue my research. It was then that I noticed a text message from Dean, which caught me off guard since I hadn’t saved his number.

Hey sleeping beauty, when you get this, give me a call. If I don’t answer, I put Sammy’s number in your phone too.

I chuckled to myself before dialing the number. After a few rings, Dean picked up.

"Hey, enjoy your sleep?" Dean laughed.

"It was great, thank you. Your bed is very comfy."

"At least someone’s enjoying my bed," Dean chuckled.

"Yeah, you should really try it sometime. It's so comfy and warm, it would put you straight to sleep," I taunted.

"Pfft, who needs an awesome bed when they have a perfect lounge to sleep on?"

"Where are you anyway?" I laughed on the phone.

"About to head to the pool," Dean sighed. "We’ve exhausted the library. They have nothing on the pool that we didn’t already know, so the only place left is the pool."

"Have fun with that. I’m just getting breakfast. Oh, and here it comes!" I squealed, winding down the window.

"Yeah, yeah, stuff your face then get your ass over here," Dean chuckled, hanging up.

I took my food with a thank you before pulling into the parking lot. After parking my car, I started on my breakfast. It didn’t take me long to finish, and I tossed my rubbish into a nearby bin before heading to the pool. When I arrived, I parked towards the back of the lot and went inside. It annoyed me more than it should have that I had to pay to enter the pool, even though I had no intention of swimming. It felt weird paying just to watch, but being on my own, it seemed the only option. I walked down the ramp into the main pool area, which featured a wave pool, a splash pool, and two 25-meter pools. It wasn’t overly busy, so it didn’t take more than a quick glance to spot Sam and Dean. It also helped that they were the only people in the building in suits. They were standing near the wave pool controls, talking to a lifeguard. As I started making my way towards them, I was suddenly halted by the sound of a giggle. It was a giggle I would recognize anywhere, sending an ice-cold shiver down my spine. I almost turned around and fled back to my car, intending to wait for Sam and Dean to finish. The only thing that stopped me was Dean spotting me and giving me a wink, which caused the lifeguard to look over her shoulder towards me. I squared my shoulders, held my head high, and walked over to them. Upon reaching them, however, my mouth started spilling out words before my brain could catch up.

"Hey, babe," I said, leaning against Dean's side. "I thought I’d come for a swim while you take care of things, but I don’t have any swimwear." I winced inwardly at the cringe-worthy line.

"Oh, hi Rachel! Haven’t seen you since graduation. Still lifeguarding, I see?" I greeted, trying to mask my awkwardness.

"Y/N, yes, I am. It pays quite well. How did you end up with such a handsome man?" Rachel asked, crossing her arms and giving me a disapproving look.

"Well, as you probably heard, I’ve been traveling the world, and during a trip through America, I found this handsome man," I said, smiling up at Dean.

"Lucky you," Rachel scoffed.

"Yeah, lucky me," I replied, still smiling at Dean.

"Anyway, baby, here’s my card. Go get yourself some swimwear and have a good time," Dean said, handing me a card.

"Thank you," I said, taking the card and giving Dean a quick peck on the cheek before darting off.

As I was leaving, I heard Dean say, "Now, if you don’t mind, we’d like to ask all the staff about the incident."

I went to the main counter and bought a swimsuit—one of the things I had left behind when I packed up and left, thinking I’d never use it again. With the swimsuit in hand, I headed back to find Sam and Dean to return Dean's card, thank him for his help, and apologize for putting him on the spot. As I wandered back into the main pool area, I quickly spotted Dean standing at the edge of the splash pool, talking to a lifeguard. Just as I was about to approach him, a hand suddenly came down on my shoulder. I jumped and spun around, ready to punch whoever had touched me.

"Wow, easy there," Sam chuckled.

"Sam, why would you do that?" I slapped him on the chest.

"I didn’t mean to scare you. Just figured I should fill you in before you blow our cover story any further."

"Yeah, sorry about that," I muttered, dropping my head.

"Oh, it’s fine. No harm done," Sam smiled. "Anyway, we were researching the deaths this morning, and one of the victims was a young girl on holiday from America. So Dean and I decided to come in and ask some questions, posing as representatives from the American Embassy investigating on behalf of the parents."

"That’s actually pretty smart. I’ll go change into these swimmers and stay out of your way. Also, can you give Dean back his card?" I handed it to Sam. "I feel kinda bad for taking it."

"Well, it’s not our money anyway, so nothing to feel bad about," Sam smirked.

I laughed at Sam's comment and walked away with a wave towards the female changing room. Only two other people were in the changing room when I walked in—two young girls, probably no older than 18. It seemed they had just finished their swim and were getting ready to shower and change. I ducked into an empty changing booth on the opposite side of the room from them. They were giggling and whispering between themselves as I walked by. If only they knew what was happening here, what was happening in the world. I quickly slipped into the swimsuit—no easy feat when both you and the suit are as dry as the Sahara Desert. Just as I bundled my clothes in my arms and was about to open the door, the room was suddenly filled with a blood-curdling scream. I dropped my clothes and threw open the door. One of the girls from earlier was now pressed up against the wall on the opposite side of the room, while the other lay motionless on the floor.

I ran over to the girl on the floor and dropped down by her side, assessing her for any signs of life. She was gone; her neck was clearly broken. Standing up, I walked over to the other girl as more people began pushing their way into the bathroom. Sam and Dean were among them. Seeing the scene, they began pushing people back and asking for someone to call emergency services. I took the other girl into my arms, shielding her face from the horrific sight and encouraging her to look away. I nodded to Sam and Dean, knowing they would need to leave the building quickly but quietly while I stayed behind to answer questions. I tried to ask the girl what had happened, but all I could get was the word "why," spoken in a whisper between sobs. I just held her, rubbing circles into her back while waiting for help to arrive.

It felt like forever, but it was probably no more than 15 minutes before the police and ambulance arrived. The police stood back, allowing the paramedics to do their work. Once the paramedics confirmed there was nothing they could do for the girl on the floor, they turned their attention to her friend. They checked her over and then escorted her to a waiting ambulance. The police followed, making sure I stayed put in the room. Returning to where I had discarded my clothes, I gathered them up and sat on the bench running the length of the room. Holding my clothes to my chest, I suddenly felt naked in the now-empty room. It wasn’t the first time I had seen a dead body, and living the life I chose, I knew it wouldn’t be the last. But that didn’t make it any less jarring. The absolute stillness of her body, the lack of the normal rise and fall of her chest, the absence of any movement, the fading pink hue of her skin—it was all so stark, so sudden. I closed my eyes and prayed she went quickly.

The quiet of the room was soon broken by the arrival of crime scene techs and coroners. They completely ignored my presence and went about their tasks, examining the deceased girl and the room. The only interaction I had was with a woman who came over and asked for my clothes. Confused, I asked why, since they hadn't been near the girl. She insisted it was needed just in case and that they would get them back to me as soon as possible. Reluctantly, I handed over my clothes and filled out the paperwork she provided. With no other address to use, I gave her my mother's address for the return of my clothes.

I watched as the coroner bagged the girl's body and removed it from the room while the techs continued to take pictures and discuss their theories about what had happened. Eventually, after what must have been 30 minutes, the police returned to the room to speak with me. They asked a flurry of questions that blurred together: Did you know the victim? No. Did you see what happened? No. Do you know Samantha? Was that the other girl? No. What were you doing here? Changing to swim. On and on, question after question. They questioned me for over an hour. It felt like a waste of their time, as I had nothing to offer—they were asking a witness who hadn’t witnessed anything. Before they let me go, I asked what Samantha had said about the incident. They gave me the usual response: they couldn’t divulge much but assured me that the investigation would reveal the truth.

I thanked the officers and left the room. I fell into a sort of autopilot. Before I knew it, I was out of the pool, in my car, and back at the hotel, with no recollection of the drive. I parked next to Dean’s Impala. As soon as I shut off the engine, I began to shake uncontrollably. I took a few shaky breaths, gripping the steering wheel tightly. I climbed out of the car and walked to the room door, knocking and waiting for someone to answer. When the door finally opened, it was Dean standing there.

“They took my clothes,” was all I managed to say before the weight of the day hit me. In the year I had been working cases, I had never seen a dead body or witnessed someone die. I had only read about it, keeping a safe distance from the true horrors. The only dead body I had seen before this was my grandmother’s, and I had hoped she would be the only person I would have to see die in my lifetime. Today’s events had dredged up all those memories and emotions I had tried so hard to bury.

As I broke down, Dean pulled me into the room and shut the door. He wrapped his arms around me, offering a safe, warm refuge where I could finally let my emotions flow.

Chaos Controlling Masterlist

All my works are link below so no need to scroll through my entire page to find what your looking for.

Want to request something?

I write for Stranger Things, Law and Order SVU, CSI, CSI: Miami, CSI: New York, 9-1-1, The Rookie, Criminal Minds and Supernatural. Happy to other shows, movies, musicians, actors and YouTubers assuming I know who they are.

Stranger Things

Eddie Munson

I Want To Ruin Our Friendship Part 1 / Part 2

Stranger Things Guys

The Dating Odyssey Part 1 / Steve / Eddie / Jim / Billy / Jonathan

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love (Revisited) (Complete)

(Most unserious banner for the most unserious show)

911

50 Ways to Say Goodbye

Evan 'Buck' Buckley

After the Fire

Edmundo 'Eddie' Diaz

Through the Dark

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid

A Well Kept Secret Part 2 Part 3

Law and Order SVU

Rafael Barba

Objection!

Dominick 'Sonny' Carisi Jr.

Cannoli's and Carisi's

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love (Revisited)

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

3k word count

summary While exploring a haunted house your friend told you about, you have a chance encounter with a pair of brothers who give you a crash introduction to their world.

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings mention of grave desecration (this is illegal don't do it!)

Note So I remembered my Mibba log-in and found this embarrassment of a story along with a long list of other equally embarrassing stories. I decided to challenge myself to edit and rewrite the stories and post them here. I will also include a link to the original story so you can read it in all it's cringy glory. This was a story from 2009 that I wrote with 2 friends of mine that we never completed. Once I have decringed the story I will finish it here. Enjoy I guess.

Original / Next Chapter

For some dumb reason, I had decided it would be fun to check out the creepy abandoned house down the road from my friend Linsey's house. At the time, it had seemed like a great idea. Everyone was always talking about how the house was haunted. The neighbourhood rumour was that the father had annihilated the last family to live in the house. But, of course, there was no proof of this. Linsey refused to go anywhere near the house and had chosen to stay home. I, however, convinced my friend Theresa to join me for this stupid adventure. Things had started out okay. Getting entry to the house was easy enough. We pulled out our phones, giggled, and recorded as we walked through a place frozen in time, joking about how this would make us Facebook famous. After we made our way to the second floor, things changed. The air upstairs was icy cold compared to the blistering heat outside. A large bang came from downstairs. Theresa noped out and took off from the house, to my best guess. All I know is she took off running down the stairs before I even had a chance to process the bang. Instead of following, I froze. I stood in the doorway to what looked to be a bedroom staring wide-eyed at the staircase, trying to gain the courage to run downstairs.

"Quick in here," said a voice breaking me from my trans.

I ran towards the voice. I saw two guys, clearly brothers, hiding in the small closet in the room. I squeezed into the closet with them. I took a moment to look at them in the light of a flashlight one of them was holding. The one I guest to be the older one had short dark blonde hair and a small amount of stubble. I guessed him to be around 6’1’; meanwhile, the one I took to be the younger brother had longer, fluffy light brown hair and was clean-shaven. He was easy 6’4 pushing 6’5. You know what they say the older sibling is always the shortest sibling.

“What are you doing in here?” The shorter one asked.

“I was exploring with my friend. We just heard the rumours about the place being haunted and wanted to check it out,” I said, throwing my arms about in frustration as much as possible in the small space. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, exploring just like you,” The tall one said, looking nervously between his brother and me.

“Oh, that’s a lie. You are a terrible liar. What are your names?" I asked as the older brother snickered behind me. "I'm Dean, and this is my brother Sam," said the older one. "I'm Y/n," I said. “Now, what are you really doing here?” I asked looking between them.

“Hunting a ghost”, Dean blurted out.

“Dean” Sam looked at him, frustrated.

“What? She walked herself into this. She should know what's going on. We can’t get her out of here safely otherwise” Dean pointed his open hand at me. “Uh, hello right here. Would you care to explain” I huffed, putting my hands on my hips.

Dean sighed, getting frustrated looks from Sam, but he explained everything. It sounded like the ramblings of a crazy man, or men in this case. Dean explained that people had been reporting getting attacked and followed home. Some people had even been reportedly killed in the house. This was nothing I had ever heard before nor had it come up in my research. Truthfully, my research was a 20 minute google search. I wasn’t from the area and wouldn’t know about the place if it wasn’t for Linsey. We lived 5 suburbs apart, so there was no reason for me to be anywhere near this house. Dean explained what they do and how they ended up in Sydney, Australia. I would have said he was lying and crazy, but he seemed honest. He truly believed everything he was saying. And it felt like I should give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Okay, so if everything you're saying is true, what do we do?” I asked

“You don’t do anything. We need to figure out where the body is and burn it,” Dean said pointing a finger between himself and Sam.

“The whole family who lived here last is buried in the local cemetery in a family tomb,” I said like it was common knowledge.

“Wait, how did you find that out?” Sam asked

“I googled it”, I shrugged. “I just want to know if the rumours were true, so I googled. Their burial place was like the first google result” I shrugged.

“Rumours?” Dean asked

“That the father murdered his whole family,” I said. “I couldn’t find anything, but they all died in this house the same night.”

“So, there is a chance daddy dearest ganked them all,” Dean said

“Well, that’s what the police were thinking, but they didn’t have enough proof,” I said

“Well, looks like we need to burn dear old Dad”, Dean smirked at Sam.

“First, we need to get out of the house,” Sam said

The whole time we had been standing around talking I could feel a cool breeze from what was supposed to be the solid wardrobe wall behind us. I turned to face the wall of the closet and ran a finger along the seem where I could feel the air. I pressed along the wall praying it was in fact what I thought it was, a hidden door. Thankfully it popped open, revealing a hidden stairs case. Most likely a servant staircase. I silently cheered and led the way down the stairs. At the bottom was a door that led into the kitchen, and in the kitchen was a backdoor. Once we were somewhat safe in the yard, I let Dean and Sam lead the way to wherever they were going. They walked out into a back alley behind the house. Sitting in the alley was a beautiful looking 67 Chevy Impala. I giggled to myself before hearing another person squealing from the other side of the car.

"Theresa" I questioned, peaking around the car. "Y/n," she said, running over to me pulling me into a hug. "Are you okay?" I asked looking her over. "I'm fine," Theresa said. "Thank god," I sighed. “Where the hell did you go? And why did you abandon me?”

“Outside, duh, I ran out through the kitchen and then was going to run down the alley to Linsey’s, but I spotted this beauty. Can you believe there is another one identical to yours?” Theresa squealed “Oh and yeah so sorry about leaving you behind, autopilot you know”.

“No, I can’t”, I smiled “Also your forgiven just don’t do it again”.

“Okay, enough with the weirdness”, Dean spoke up. “Who is she, and why is she looking at baby?”

“Oh, this is my friend Theresa the one I was exploring with.” I said, “Theresa, this is Sam and Dean. Who is baby?” Dean waved a hand at the car like it was obvious.

“Oh great, so she was in the house too,” Sam said completely ignoring everything else.

“Well, Theresa looks like you're coming with us,” Dean said, hoping in the car.

“Can we go get my car before we take off?” I asked while getting into the car.

“Where is it?” Dean asked.

“Parked out the front of the house,” I said.

Dean sighed, put the Impala in drive and drove around the front of the house. As soon as we rounded the corner, Dean spotted my Impala. He smirked and chuckled, almost surprised that I had the same car as him. We pulled up in front of my car just long enough for Theresa and me to jump out of Deans car and into mine. Dean motioned out his window for me to lead the way. The late afternoon sky bled into twilight as we reached the cemetery. A thrill, tinged with defiance, shot through me as I saw the locked gates. Nighttime visits were strictly forbidden, and the council was none too happy about the recent wave of skateboarders and trill seekers. But the gate seemed to be a normal hindrance to the boys. With practiced ease, they vaulted the gate, their laughter echoing off the ancient stones. I scanned the perimeter, spotting a hidden gap in the fence, and followed them through, a hint of apprehension mixed with the excitement.

 I walked the boys over to the family tomb. The tomb was opened, the door clearly having been broken in a long time ago. They asked us to wait outside while they set to working inside. The boys had a worn duffle with them, out of which they pulled out salt, petrol and a crowbar. The family had been placed in their coffins into the wall with a limestone name plate marking each person’s final resting place. Dean managed to pry the nameplate for the father off the wall exposing the coffin which was quite decayed. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t impressed by Deans strength. Sam covered the casket in petrol while Dean covered it in salt as best they could through the small opening. Once the casket was covered as it could be, Dean threw a lit matchbook into the hole. The coffin burst into flame quickly heating the small mausoleum.  

“Well, that should be all done,” Dean said. “But to be safe, we should return to the house and check. You two, however, will go to our hotel and wait for us.” Dean tossed us the keys

I caught them in one hand turning them over to read the hotel name off the tag and chose not to argue. I nodded at him and headed back towards the cars. Theresa and I drove straight to the hotel. I was silently ruminating over the day’s events while Theresa was hardly managing to sit still and rambling on about Sam. We found their room and let ourselves in. The room was basic, 2 queen beds, a lounge, table, chair and tv on one of those hotels’ typical built-in stands. The first thought through my head was I hope to God we don’t have to spend the night because I was not one to share a bed with a complete stranger and the lounge looked uninviting.

“Hay, which do you think is Sam's bed?” Theresa broke me from my thoughts.

“I don’t know. Why do you want to know?” I asked confused.

“I don’t know, I just want to lay on Sam's bed. He so cute, uh, I think I’m in love,” Theresa swooned, dropping into the chair.

“Oh, dear god, woman, you fall in love too quickly.” I rolled my eyes.

“I can’t help it. Did you see him? That man clearly looks after himself.” Theresa giggled.

“Yeah, and so does Dean, but you don’t see me swooning over him. I really don’t get you sometimes”.

I flopped onto the bed, squeezing my eyes shut against the relentless drone of Theresa's voice. Every syllable about Sam felt like a grating record needle stuck on repeat. All I craved was escape, the sweet oblivion of a normal life. Finish my acting degree, build a portfolio, disappear into the anonymity of a bustling city. A sharp rap on the door jolted me awake. Theresa, mid-sentence, pivoted toward the sound. Her smile faltered for a fleeting moment before she plastered it back on and cautiously cracked the door open. A hushed exchange followed, punctuated by muffled figures I couldn't quite see. Relief washed over me when I saw Dean and Sam enter the room. Their presence was a familiar anchor in this storm of emotions.

“You comfortable on my bed?” Dean asked a smirked on his face as he shed his leather jacket onto the foot of said bed.

“Very. I was having a nice little nap before you so rudely woke me up” I stretched out on the bed.

“Well, sorry, ma’am.” Dean laughed, giving a goofy salute.

“On to more serious things, we saw scorch marks at the house indicating that we may have gotten rid of this thing, but we would like you to stay here overnight just in case” Sam looked between us. Definitely the serious brother, I noted.

“Oh yeah, and where are we supposed to sleep?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“You girls, take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch,” Dean smiled.

“Are you sure?” I asked not wanting to be rude.

“Not the first time I slept in a chair won’t be the last” Dean shrugged “It’s kind of part of the job description”.

“You have a job description?” I joked.

“Not really we kind of just making it up as we go” Dean shrugged giving me a wink.

Theresa, ever the optimist, quickly engaged Sam in conversation. Her laughter, a welcome sound, filled the room. It was a stark contrast to the turmoil within me.

"Alright everyone, hold that thought," Dean boomed, his voice a welcome interruption. His stomach let out a loud rumble, punctuating his statement. "We all must be starving after that little...adventure. I'm gonna hit the shops for some supplies. Anything in particular tickle your fancy, y/n?"

“Buyers choice” I smiled at him, he winked back before leaving the room.

I rolled my eyes playfully as Theresa bombarded Sam with questions. Their easy banter was a testament to her ability to move on. "What happened, happened," she'd always say. Maybe she was right. Dwelling on it wouldn't change anything. I wrapped myself in Dean's blanket, the scent of his cologne and laundry detergent a strangely comforting reminder of normalcy. The weariness in my bones finally won over my racing thoughts, and I drifted back to sleep, the gentle murmur of conversation a lullaby in the background.

“Just making yourself right at home now, aren’t you?” Dean chuckled, walking in the door, startling me awake again.

“I’m tired. It’s been a long day, and part of me is hoping this is all a bad dream,” I groaned looking at the ceiling.

“Sorry, sweetheart, this pretty face is as real as it gets”, Dean shot me a cheesy grin. “Now get up and eat. Grubs getting cold.”

Dean dropped four bags of McDonalds on the table and almost immediately went to complaining about the tiny size of the burgers here and he had to order an obscene amount of them just to fill himself up. Sam just shook his head clearly; this was a complaint Sam had heard a few times too many. I on the other hand just pointed out that he could have gone to any of the fish and chip shops he had gone past on his way to McDonalds and brought a single burger like 4 times the size of the McDonalds ones. Dean being oh so mature put on a high-pitched voice mocking what I had said before murmuring shut-up and starting on the first of a stack of 6 burgers he had brought himself. I begrudgingly pulled myself out of the bed and made my way to the table. Dean had ordered burgers for me and Theresa and a salad for Sam. I gave Sam a questioning look as he murmured something about it being the healthier choice before walking away. Sam and Theresa went back to his bed where they continued their conversation while Dean and I ate in silence. I had taken a seat on the lounge and occasionally glanced up at Dean who would just smile at me with a mouth full of food. I would also catch him watching Sam and Theresa a small smile etched on his face like he was happy to see his brother happy. When Dean had finished the last of his burgers he stood up and started walking towards the bathroom.

“I’m going to shower and get ready to turn in it’s been a long day” Dean rubbed his face in exhaustion.

“Okay well Theresa did you want to catch a movie or something?” Sam asked looking at Theresa.

“Sure” Theresa bounced of the bed and practically ran at the door.

I followed Sam and Theresa out of the room so I could get the spare clothes out of my car that I carried around in there. It became a habit I picked up running from audition to audition to have a go bag in my car with anything in it I might need. I went back into the room and took the chance while Dean was in the bathroom to quickly change into a comfy pair of shorts and a loose shirt. I sat back on Dean's bed, but instead of laying down, I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the carpet as I continued to think about everything. Theresa seemed so comfortable and at home with the boys, but I just wanted this whole thing over. But the more I thought, the more I felt like I would never be able to go back to things as they were. Knowing what could be out there, I would always be a little on edge. If ghosts were real, then what else possibly existed? Vampires? Werewolves? What about all the silly kid stories like Bloody Mary and Candyman? Could they be real? I wanted to pretend that none of this had happened, but it’s not exactly something you can forget like a footnote. Like yeah, that shit happened, but let's just pack up and move on. At some point during my inner struggle Dean had finished his shower and made himself comfortable on the lounge. It wasn’t until Dean cleared his throat that I was snapped out of my thoughts.

“Okay, I’m not going to be able to sleep with you sitting on the edge of the bed like that. It’s kinda creepy. What's on your mind, kid?” Dean asked, sitting up on the lounge.

“Kid? I’ll have you know I’m 22, not exactly a kid anymore” I tried to joke looking over at Dean, noticing he was in nothing but a black t-shirt and black boxer briefs.

“Okay, sweetheart, doesn’t answer my question, though”, Dean smirked.

“How am I supposed to go back to life as it was knowing ghosts, and who knows what else is real?” I looked back at the floor. “What exactly does exist Dean? Vampires? Werewolves? Demons? Angels?” I rattled off a list of things randomly looking back up at him.

“Yeah, those and more” Dean chuckled dryly. “As for moving on the simple answer is you don’t. You just go on and try to live as normal as possible, knowing people like Sammy and I are out here hunting these things to keep you safe. Hopefully, that helps you sleep a little better at night.”

“Can you talk to me while we go to sleep?” I asked sheepishly.

“Of course, sweetheart”, He groaned as he laid back on the lounge. I finally laid down on the bed. Both of us staring at the ceiling as we talked.

“You never told me your last name,” I said it was a random question but anything to keep the conversation going and my mind busy.

“Winchester and yours?”.

“Y/l/n”.

“Well, now I know who to look up next time I’m in town”, Dean chuckled.

“How old are you anyway I mean clearly you’re the old sibling”

“Not too old to hit on a hottie like you” I could feel Dean's eyes on me as he spoke.

“Smooth Winchester” I tried to laugh, but it just sounded like an awkward giggle.

“31”

“You’re a real ladies' man, aren’t you, Dean Winchester” I smiled to the ceiling, getting taken by his charm.

“Yeah, well, when you have my lifestyle, you don’t exactly have the option of settling down, so you take what you can get.”

“No judgement here”

Dean and I laughed for what felt like hours. Under his tough exterior, he was adorable. I would be lying if I said I wouldn’t be sad to say goodbye tomorrow. My eyes could no longer fight to stay open, and I drifted to sleep listening to Dean singing Highway To Hell. The following morning, I woke to find the room completely empty. I got up and changed into something else from my go bag. Nothing fancy, just plain black jeans and a white tank top. I pulled on my boots and headed outside to check for the cars. My car was sitting where I parked it right before the door. Dean's car was gone, though. I pulled out my phone and rang Theresa guessing she was with them. I mean where else would she be, she couldn’t exactly get home without me. Rather than answer the phone she shot me a text message. Busy talking to Sam, we’re just down the road at the all you can eat. I rolled my eyes allowing myself to have a genuine laugh at her. I knew the place she was talking about. It was only 2 blocks away so who knows why Dean decided to drive. I left my car where it was and made the 5-minute walk. I felt a lot better than I had the night before. As much as it felt weird to put my trust in strangers, I really did trust Sam and Dean. Once I was outside the restaurant it didn’t take me long to spot them. Dean gave me a goofy wave through the window while sending me a ‘, please save me’ look. I giggled making my way into the restaurant and over to their table. "Hey guys," I said as I took a seat at the table. "Hey, sleepy head," Dean gave a big cheesy smile. "Hey", Theresa and Sam said in unison. "So, whose food can I steal," I said, tummy grumbling looking between the plates. "I made sure we paid for you too, you know just in case you decided to grace us with your presence” Dean smirked giving me a wink. "Thank you, such a gentleman" I gave him a wink back before heading to the food.

Dean followed me over with his almost empty plate. I could hear Sam call after him “Dude seriously are you still hungry”. I chuckled and shook my head at the brothers. Dean came to stand beside me as we loaded up our plates.

“So,” Dean said, putting way too much bacon on his plate “, I guess after this, we go our separate ways,” He said more of a statement than a question.

“I guess so”, I smiled at him. “But hey, you said you’d look me up next time you were in town, so don’t be a stranger now, you hear.”

“Yes, ma’am”, Dean chuckled “Just promise me you’ll go back to your normal life”.

“I promise” I smiled at him.

We had an excellent breakfast filled with conversation about what came next for Sam and Dean. They were headed back home to the US now the job was done. It seemed like this was goodbye forever. We finished our breakfast, and Dean drove us back to the hotel. Theresa and I packed up our things before giving them a heartfelt goodbye. We hopped in my car, going home back to life before the Winchesters. But we knew things would never be the same, not now. Some small piece of me hoped I would see the Winchesters again.

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