Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You had known the Winchesters for a long time, you might even say too long. You had practically grown up together. You were basically Bobby's daughter and John would regularly ditch the brothers to go off and hunt. You were the youngest, just nearly a year younger than Sam.
You and the brothers shared countless memories together when they came to stay, often during the school year so that they could have a less choppy education.
You often remembered Dean staying home most days, much to the disappoint of Bobby. He had raised you to gain knowledge with every opportunity, and you shared this trait with Sam. This was shown in the stacks of books found all over the house.
Looking back you realized your naivety despite your intelligence. So here you are, going down the rabbit hole.
-May 1997-
Dean-18
Sam-14
You-13
The car rolled up outside the house. It was like an alarm, triggering the childlike glee only held in youths. The clattering of dishes echoing from the kitchen warned you of Bobby's distraught. No matter how much he loved the boys, he hated the way John acted as a father. You were young, innocent, you still don't know what provoked Bobby into the stiff disposition he held whenever they stopped by. You were always glad to have playmates, no matter the circumstance, but Bobby got rather cold when they stopped by.
Maybe it was the bruises on Dean's arm, maybe it was the way Sam clung to Dean's arm when they walked inside, the desperation to hug Bobby. These were all things you recognized in later years when you were all older. The boys explained it as the side effects of getting into hunting so young, being antsy and hurt, but you thought different.
This time was like many times before. They would scurry from the car, laden with all their things, while the car sped away.
It had been a long time since you last saw them. Dean had gotten taller in the two years since you last saw them, Sam as well. They looked more worn, despite their youth. You were just as chipper as ever though, filled with joy and affection. You lit up every room you entered and you and the boys got on like a house on fire.
This year was different. Dean was older, didn't want to have to share a room with Sam, and instead got his own, forcing you and Sam to share. But it's not like you minded, you were content staying up until past midnight exchanging books and stories with Sam. For a while there you almost wished for the Winchesters to arrive so that you could see him. But as the time past on, and the years slipped past you almost forgot.
That night for dinner it was the classic ‘whatever you can find in the freezer’ plus whatever pie was left at the diner in town. You sat two to a side, across from bobby and next to Sam. The conversation was kept light, it was the first day after such a long time. Bobby praised Dean's growth spurt while Dean fended him off by shoving more and more food into his mouth.
The night dragged on, with the four of you watching a cheesy action flix on the small boxy tv. Later transitioning into Dean and Bobby drinking in the kitchen while you and Sammy wandered the scrapyard.
He shoved his hands into the bulky pockets in his oversized sweatshirt. The night was chilly despite it being mid may and you were regretting not grabbing a jacket.
You always felt a peace with Sam. Maybe it was the large gap between you and Dean, him being five years older and all. Maybe it was that in your younger years you were basically raised together. John had seemed to believe that Bobby could care for a toddler better and often just took Dean along. Maybe that was why Bobby was pissed, he never got to be a father and yet here he was, taking care of all these children.
"So, what's new." Sam asked out of the blue.
"Nothing much." You wandered, gazing solemnly up at the star-filled sky. In reality, everything had happened. You had cut your hair, you bought new clothes, you became interested in astronomy. All small things, but in the long run, things that pushed you forward.
'"It’s been a while, something must different." Sam was as stubborn as ever. He would never let up until you went over it day by day. So you deflected more.
"Like I said, nothing much. What about you, you're different."
"In what way?"
"Well, you're taller." You pulled your gaze from the sky and settled it on his eyes.
"That’s it?"
"Yes." You murmured in return.
A silence stretched on and you found yourself wandering in a world created in your mind. A world where the supernatural did not exist, a world were you and Sam were just friends, not people who were so close yet so far apart. You were only thirteen and yet you wanted the world, and Sam would do anything to give it to you.
One thing you noticed in the moment and looking back was that Dean never went to school, and if he did it was because he was forced. He would spend those days hanging out at the crappy middle school you and Sam went to. He would drop in to make sure we were getting on fine.
You had hated Dean growing up. He was older and tended to rub it in your face. But he grew out of it as the years passed. When you entered high school he called to make sure you were fine, same as he did with Sam. He was the big brother you never knew you wanted.
As the years drifted on and you got older you became closer. He became less of a father figure and more of a friend. As long as you ignored his flirting you got along just fine.
In the spring of 1997, he was as cocky as ever. He spent his time helping Bobby fix up an old car or teasing you and Sam.
As you and Dean drifted in and out of focus you and Sam drew closer and closer together.
You showed him your favourite places. The quiet corner of the junkyard, or a particular row of books in the library. You swapped secrets along with homework. You walked to and from school together, and you were inseparable by the late of June.
But then the car pulled up again, the engine making the sweet sound you grew to love, now filling you with sadness. You knew it would not last forever, and yet you hoped it would. The summer must start, and that’s when they’d go.

Chapter Text

-August 1999-
Dean-20
Sam-16
You-14/15
The days ticked on by. He promised, but how could he have kept it. John would never listen, never allow it. But you wished and hoped that you could see him again. It’s been too long.
His old phone number was saved; written on a sticky note you stuck to the wall above your desk. It had been cancelled over a year ago but still, you kept it.
Bobby hasn’t seemed to notice. He had briefly mentioned that they wouldn’t be coming, but that was last winter, it’s been over twelve months since.
So when they arrived you were beyond happy. The familiar sound of the 67 Chevy Impala flowing through your window, drawing back out the childlike glee.
You raced down the stairs, despite Bobby’s protests. You were on a mission and nothing could stop you.
Instead of sprinting to the door you flopped onto the couch and made yourself comfortable.
The breeze ruffled your hair as the door opened casting a glowing light across the floor, prominently displaying the two tall shadows of the Winchester men.
Bags in hand, they graciously accepted Bobby's invitation to come in. You turned around and leaned over the back of the sofa pleasingly shocked at the brothers. They had grown.
Sam was now pushing six feet and Dean was already past it. Not to mention they were cute. Sure Dean was five years older but damn.
You remember bringing this up later in life and hearing their thoughts in that moment. They seemed to have forgotten that moment that you remember so vividly now. That was probably the moment that it dawned on you how screwed you were no matter where life took you.
You were fifteen then. You made dinner every night and bought your own clothes. You thought you had grown up, you thought you were a grown up. You got a job at the coffee shop in town and was saving up for college already.
But the moment they walked through that door you realized your true destiny. All the lessons from Bobby about lore and guns. The constant tests of your strength and independence. He wanted you to become a hunter, to go with the Winchester’s.
And in that moment you thought that was the best decision. In the long run, it evened out. The pros and cons balanced and you were left wondering what fifteen year old you was thinking. Was it really for the best?
Over the years you slowly lost interest in school. You had a couple friends and good teachers but that spark wasn’t there. Than Sam barged in, full of theories and the answers to all your homework. He spent lunch with you and resumed walking with you. You no longer had to deal with Dean being overprotective and school quickly became an escape from the stuffiness you felt at home.
Bobby tried so hard to be a good father, you knew that. He made sure you a good education, ate well, and kept you far away from hunting. But that changed when you turned 14. He saw you as old enough to fight, to train.
It started out slow, some basic combat and lore. Then it was guns and knives. You now knew how to disassemble and load a gun in seconds.
At the time it made you feel different, it pushed you away from your friends. You went home directly after school and trained. That’s what you were doing when he walked in.
You were to busy attacking a punching bag in the corner, music blaring from your headphones.
“Hey, sweetheart.” His naturally flirty voice pierced through the music, startling you as you grasped into the bag for support. You turned around to face the source of the voice.
“Dean? What are you doing down here?”
“I’m going out to pick up food for dinner. Since you ya know make it, maybe you want to come with?”
“Um, sure. Let me just grab a jacket.” What did he want, you were sure he was going to spring something on you during the drive. Maybe he was going to try and get you and Sam together, he was constantly teasing you about it. Oh please no.
“K, meet you outside.”
And with that, the conversation was over. The silence crept back into the room when his steps faded away.
The drive was slow and long, the closest large grocery store is in the next town over and with Dean next to you and the lack of conversation, it felt longer. So you focused on the world whizzing past the window and the rock music thumping out of the speakers.
When inside you wandered lazily up and down the isles. Dean casually flirts with an employee as you shop. The squeaky cart slowly filling up fits beer, pie and lots of protein.
You end up in the produce section, long since ditched Dean and his need for beef jerky.
It feels nice to be out of the house. You had settled into a routine. The same schedule every weekday, only to change slightly over the weekend. It had become exhausting being around all the testosterone all the time.
You were so lost in your own serenity that you forgot about the world around you. You jumped back to reality after crashing into another cart. In a split second the automated response kick d in.
“I’m so sorry.” You quipped not even looking up.
“Don’t be.”
You looked up, your mind now back to being in control.
You felt a blush creeping up to your cheeks. Boy, he was cute. Who knew that ramming into someone would end up with this specimen on the other side.
“Um, are you okay, I’m sorry I was pretty out of it.” You stammered.
“I’m fine, really. I needed a good snap back to reality as well.”
“Well, I guess it’s a good thing then.”
“I guess.” The silence crept back in as well as awkwardness.
“Hey, kiddo.” A voice yelled from behind.
You whipped around at the touch of a hand on your shoulder. Dean.
“Dean, you startled me. A little warning, I almost judo flipped you!”
“Wow whoh, calm down sweetheart. Who’s your friend here.” He said featuring to the cute boy on the other side of your cart.
“Um…” You stretched in, not actually knowing his name.
“Miles.” He answered for you, noticeably confused.
“Ya, miles”.
“Well, miles, I’m sorry but me and the little lady gotta go.” The boy was speechless as Dean grabbed onto the handle of the cart and pushed it towards the checkout.
“Well, I’d better go then.”
Stupid Dean, ruining everything, interrupting the perfect moment, what was he even doing in the produce section anyway? Ughhhh, you hated how he treated you like he did Sam, like a younger sibling he can push around.
When you were unloading the food was when he spoke again.
“Oh don’t get your panties all in a twist, you can do so much better sweetheart.”
Oh, that was it. Why did he have to be so cocky and arrogant?
“Why? Are you jealous Dean?” You smirked, attempting to set up a last defence.
He just chuckled softly to himself before replying coolly.
“Oh, darling. Don’t tempt me.” Before opening the car door and slamming it behind him, leaving you standing in the parking lot speechless.

Chapter Text

-December 1999-
Dean-20
Sam- 16
You-15
"What’s the quadratic formula again?"
"It’s at the front of your book, I wrote it down the last time you
asked."
"Right. Thanks, Sam."
"What’s up, you seem out of it today."
"I’m fine. It just almost the end of school."
"Shouldn’t you be happy then, it’s almost Christmas break."
"It’s not that."
"Than what is it?"
"It’s just a bad time, ok."
"Well, I’m here to talk if you need it."
Oh Sam, sweet innocent Sam. If only he knew. If only he knew that that was the time that your life crumbled down around you. The time you saw him murder his own wife. The time you cried yourself to sleep every night. if only you could tell him.
December was a time of misery for you and Bobby. He had saved you from your zombie parents before having to kill his own wife. Christmas at the salvage yard was anything but cheery.
All you wanted to do was lay low and let the time slip through your fingers. If you could skip December all together you would in an instant.
As it happened most hunters weren’t big on holidays and Christmas past briefly with a small exchange of presents and wishes of cheer.
New Years was a whole other matter. Just like forth of July, Sam and Dean went big. Dean saved up his money and together they went and bought fireworks to set off late at night.
They begged you to join them and so, and half-past 11 you snuck through the woods towards a clearing you knew well. You giggled and ran clutching onto the bag containing pie and other sweets.
Once they were all set up correctly, you sprawled out on the grass. You lay gazing up at the sky. The stars drifting in and out of focus. You thought back to almost three years ago, under these same stars with Sam, wondering about the universe and how your life became your life. What things triggered all this. Was that night 10 years ago, or was it beyond that.
As you lay wondering on the long grass, the brothers prepared for the big finale. This was a long-lasting tradition that continued on far past adolescence. Years worth of memories were made under the moonlight, waiting for the clock to strike twelve.
You checked your watch aimlessly, as you had done just minutes before.
11:54.
It was almost 2000, you were going to live through the change of the century. You felt odd thinking that things would change, and yet nothing ever did. You feel the same both years. It was night than it was day, it was one year then the next in an instant. It was that now it’s this, but what actually changes.
The minutes just kept counting by until Dean shouted to Sam that it was time. you stood up and stood back as they started.
Sam stood next to you as the brilliant colours danced before your eyes. You glanced over at him and you could see the light reflected in his eyes.
He draped his arm over your shoulder, pulling you in against his chest. Your heart quickened as he warmed you up. It felt so nice to be in that moment, standing between Sam and Dean, the place you grew to love being.
You felt Sam's gaze on you as you stared up at the exploding colours. You gently turned to face him, taking in this handsome features under the dancing light.
Your eye lines connected and slowly they closed in. His head gently drops down to meet yours. You push up on your toes to meet him at the last centimetre.
One second he’s hovering over you, the next his lips brushed yours and the world seemed to disappear.
But you nearly had time to kiss back before he pulled away. You sighed softly at the lost of contact, and your eyes met again as you open them. He was blushing, you could tell even in the darkness.
The moment was ruined the second Dean spoke.
"Finally, I thought it would never happen. Good going, Sammy."
He turned to walk back, passing by Sam and clapping g him sharply on the back.
You giggled as Sam looked embarrassed and he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. He was looking down at the ground when you grabbed his free hand.
You clasped it in yours and whispered softly.
"Don’t let him get to you. I liked it, Sammy."
You said the word mockingly as you pulled on his hand, turning to leave. He followed you as you lead the way back to the house, the fireworks still dancing in the sky.
You thought about that moment a lot over the next month. The loud boom of fireworks and the teasing grin from Dean. The taste of his soft lips, if only for a second. His beautiful eyes lit up and the darkness clinging to the shadows of his face.
You were sure Sam thought about it too. The two of you became closer and closer over the next month and a half. He held your hand and kissed you outside his locker. But it never became more. You acted normal at home and Dean stopped with the teasing.
As the days got longer and the nights shorter you became restless. Without Sam sleeping in the same room this year it had already been tough. He was a comfort, a warm glow in the darkest nights. And even though he showed affection, I didn’t feel right. He was acting as though it was a fling, not something to last forever.
This was the opposite of how he acted when he was older. He became more clingy and protective. He had grown up, becoming more than that soft-spoken teenager. In later years he loved with a passion, not with adolescent urges.

Chapter Text

-February 2000-
They left. After almost 6 months they were gone again. The loss left you empty and broken.
Bobby understood. He left you alone to get past the barricade. He had watched you become more grown up in the brother's company, lose your innocence. You had slowly fallen for Sam and his absence was killing you.
The last month was hard, he had drifted away and you felt stranded. He was the one holding you up, but just barely. He was gently letting go, hoping that you could survive on your own. But you couldn't.
You knew why. It was inevitable that he was going to go again and he didn't want strings attached when that happened. You understood. It was hard being a hunter and he was just trying to save you by pulling away.
The next month was hell, your school was back to being a prison of your thoughts. The daydreams crept in while in math class and flooded your brain at lunch. You had long since lost your friends and you tried to recover them, sew back up the broken bonds, but it wasn’t enough.
But you turned the memories into what they were: memories. All that was left was what you remembered. The present became the past and there was nothing you could do to stop it. The Winchesters just become a dot in the distance as life carried you forwards. Just another memory, only to pop back up later.
You also still had pictures. A scrapbook of photos and drawings, labelled with quotes and small captions. There were pictures of the boys, and pictures of all of you, usually taken by Bobby. Sam had gotten into photography and he had contributed to the collection.
Your favourite was from that New Years. Sam had brought along a vintage Polaroid camera he had found in the basement one Saturday morning. It was a picture of you and Dean. You were laying on the grass, your hair creating a shining halo of sorts around your head. Your eyes were closed and your lips were turned up in a Mona Lisa smile. Dean was sat up right next to your peaceful form, he was taking a bite of pie and giving Sam a grin. Trying, and failing, to subtly urge Sam on. You kept it for years afterwards as it was one of the only pictures of you and Dean were you were not fighting, something that increased when you were both stubborn adults.
You also kept the scrapbook, you and the brothers laughed at Sam's bad photography and the bad fashion choices that the 90s were known for. Dean pointed out your favourite picture, commenting on your serenity and how you had changed.
In later years you had lost interest in astronomy and it was just another fade. You kept with hunting though, it became your future, along with Sam and Dean. You loved the smell of gunpowder and the high you got from the adrenaline. Saving people became your life, and you never regretted it for an instant.
Sam had made offers to settle down, have an apple pie life, live in the suburbs. You had turned him down, but you still thought about it. What would your life be like if you had accepted his offer?
15 year old you barely understood math and yet still thought that life could be planned. Life never goes the way you expect, even when it’s not planned. If only the younger you had known this, maybe you could have skipped over all the drama.

Chapter Text

September 2000
Dean-21
Sam-17
You-16
They showed up the night before the first day of school.
Unlike all the years before you begged for them not to pull up in the sleek black car. You prayed that their handsome forms wouldn’t creak up the old stairs and knock on the door. You wished against all hope that you didn’t need to see their dashing smiles and dazzling eyes. God, why did they have to be like this, why did this year have to happen? You just wanted to skip to the good part. The part where you had your life settled and your biggest problem wasn't a pair of brothers with insanely good looks.
You were the one who opened the door and saw them first, you to revealed Sam's dimpled smile and Dean's plain to see the disappointment of being ditched by his father.
As Dean got older he got madder and madder that had to go stay at Bobby's. He thought himself old enough to not have to be treated as a child. Although John was a bad father, he knew how to protect his own. And you didn't blame him, he was protective and thought that pushing them away and trying to give them space would help. If anything it just made them crave it even more. All Dean wanted was to hunt, and Sam just followed his brother's lead.
This was reflected in what happened in later years, Sam going to Stanford. Dean pushed him the last inch. The pushing never stuck, no matter how strong the push.
You looked up at the two men in front of you and you suddenly felt self-conscious. You were wearing appropriate pyjamas for the temperature, shorts and a baggy shirt, but you felt exposed. You crossed your arms in front of your chest and welcomed them in. if the noticed or cared, they didn't show it.
The first week was dreadful. It was filled with tight-lipped smiles and awkward run-ins late at night.
Bobby was constantly muttering 'Idgits' under his breath when a particularly tense moment presented itself.
You spent most of your time in your room, hoping against all hope that whoever knocked wasn’t Sam. The first couple times it wasn’t, just Bobby reminding you to do your chores or that dinner was ready. One time it had been Dean asking if you wanted to go shopping with him again. Needless to say, you turned down his offer.
This time, however, it was Sam, someone you had been dreading talking too and someone you had somehow avoided for the first week. Dinner was the worst part, he sat next to you and carried on as if nothing had happened. As it turned out that was just the Winchester way, don’t acknowledge it and it never happened. You believed that he didn't care, that he hated you.
The knock on the door startled you and forced you to leave the bed had been occupying for the last hour.
You gently opened the door and instantly regretted it. His puppy dog eyes entered your vision. for a brief second you were under there spell, then he spoke. You went to close the door, cursing yourself for not asking who it was. but he was stronger than you and pushed against it.
"Leave me alone" You begged. The desperation in his voice made his heart sink. He felt terrible for making you feel this way, all he wanted to do was make it right, for once.
He blocked the door with his foot and begged you to open it more.
"Please, I just came to apologize. I don’t know if I would see you again, I wanted you to be alright." He leaned against the door, his voice soft.
"Well, you did the opposite." You yelled into your room as you leaned against the door, bewildered by Sams persistence and strength. He wasn’t letting up.
"Come on, please just listen."
"Just go." You craved his warmth and comfort. Your body was urging your brain to just give in. Just open the door.
You gently slid down the door, exhausted and sick of fighting the fatigue. A silent tear slipped down your cheek and you gently wiped it away.
'Don’t cry, you're stronger than that. You're not a damsel in distress you don’t need a night in shining armour. You could handle it just fine by yourself.' You told yourself silently.
Sam slid down on the other side of the door, cursing himself for making you feel like this, terrible and heartbroken. Slowly the two of you fell asleep on opposite sides of the door. Separated only by the few inches of wood, but also by emotions.
This was where Dean found him the next morning, curled up at your door, deeply asleep.
Slowly your relationship repaired itself. Maybe it was the morning where you made pancakes together early in the morning. Maybe it was the walks to and from school, where you became sick of the silence. Maybe it was the feelings that never seemed to leave, and never did.
Then in an instant, the months had past and you grew closer, though not as close as before. You hadn’t kissed or shared any intimate moments, Sam seemed to want to keep it that way.
As you became closer secrets got out. Not the innocent secrets shared all those years ago, but heart crushing secrets, ones you wished everyone would understand, but also ones you wanted to keep forever locked away.
You told him about how your parents died, the horrible tragedy that brought down your whole life in a matter of hours. But you also told him of how Bobby had saved you, and how you had both helped each other make it out of the loss and misery together.
He told you if his plans for the future. How he was going to apply for college, how he’d move away and leave his family. The guilt he felt and how he tried to convince himself that it was a good decision. He was terrified of Dean and John's reaction and you knew it.
You were the one that supported Sam going to Stanford. You congratulated him and helped him find a job near the campus. You pushed him to leave and helped him pack. You kept in touch and wished him the best in his endeavour.

Chapter Text

May 2001
Dean-22
Sam-18
You-17
He called you late at night, even later for him. He sounded broken and distressed. He had told them, told his father and brother news that would be tremendous by anybody else’s standards, but instead was life changing in the worse way.
You stayed up all night and through to the morning. You made promises you wished you could keep.
You promised him you would apply to Stanford the coming year, so you could be together. He promised you that if you saw each other again maybe your relationship would go somewhere furtherthan just friends.
These were two promises that you begged the universe to fulfill. You pushed yourself to the limit in school trying to get a good grade. You spent your days daydreaming about you and Sam. What you two could be. You spent the other half on the phone with him.
They had long since left. Gone back to hunting with their father. Ditched you right when everything was perfect again. But somehow this break was better.They didn’t leave suddenly or in the middle of the night. But it hadn’t been all planed out.
That’s the part that hurt you the most. You had it planned out that Sam would finish high school in Sioux Falls and you would see him at grad, have a more clean break.
After hearing Sam’s distress and his family’s reactions, you took it apon yourself to settle it. You called up Dean the next moring, filled with hatred and rage. You defended Sam’s actions and plans. Dean just lay back and took it, never yelling back or crossing you. This just boiled your blood more. When all you anger was expended and you were left gasping for air was when he spoke.
“Y/N, its fine, I dont hate you and I definitely don’t hate Sam. He made a decision that doesn’t fit with my opinons and ideals. And if you called looking for him, he already left.”
“What?”
You answered shocked , it had been an hour since you last spoke with Sam. He had probably already left at that point.
“He graduated early, left last night. I dont know where.”
His voice broke. He loved his brother, Sam leaving was tearting him up. He just wanted to protect him, but also keep him close. He was being pulled apart. He felt betrayed and abandond. Left to deal with the punishment of his father.
There was a long silence filled with your sniffles and Dean’s sighs.
“I just, just feel...I wish that I dont feel this way, I just feel so gulty. I wish I could could be happy for him, getting out of hunting. But I also wish that he stayed.”
His sentance draged on. Dean was never one for feelings. Over the years he kept his cards close to his chest, never letting anyone get a peak. The only other time he had discused the topic with you was at a run down bar in the middle of nowhere. He had had one to many beers, and so had you. A sip of whiskey burned down you throat and Dean sipped his cheap beer next to you. He leaned and wispered on your ears three words. You could smell the liquor on his breath and the breath blowing softly against you skin.
That moment changed so much, yet so little. Not in the long run at least. Dean later pointed out that it was a drunken night and that he didnt mean it, and than everything was fine.

Chapter Text

October 2001
Dean-22
Sam-18
You-17
You were free, a flag fluttering in the wind, or a bird gently flapping its wings. But unlike a flag, you weren't tied down, and unlike a bird, you had no direction.
You had one year left of high school, and you honestly just wanted to skip right to college. But then you would want to skip to after college, then you'd just keep skipping until nothing was left. So instead of skipping forward, you skipped school.
You spent your days reading up on lore, using the computers and resources at the library, or just walking for hours. Walking until you were past lost. Walking until your problems didn't follow and your thoughts were of the present, not the past or future.
Most days you could avoid Bobby's questions about school. He'd ask about any homework or projects. If you were learning anything new and interesting. He was still trying to project what younger you was like. The curiosity that had long since vanished, and the fascination with books and school.
"Hey, kiddo. Your home early." His question sprang at you the moment you opened the door.
"Ya, sorry I should have told you this morning." You deflected. Mentally preparing an excuse for why.
"Balls! You think I haven’t noticed? You’ve been skipping school just like Dean."
You cringed at his tone of voice.
You did the only thing you thought you could do. You fled away from Bobby. Leaving him cursing to himself in his office. You ran to your room. You ran away from your problems.
You made a habit of this. Fight or flight took over. As a hunter you should fight, you have to. But with your own problem, you always ran. You put up defences and ran.
And that’s what you did for the rest of the year. Hideaway when there was conflict. Always fleeing from problems. You needed someone to set you straight. And that when a Winchester rolled into town.

Chapter Text

July 2001
Dean-22
Sam-18
You-17/18
You had just graduated.
You were an adult.
But then you went back to being ‘kiddo’ in an instant. He ruffled your hair and strode in, asking if there was pie. Dean Winchester was back.
"Hey, kiddo whatcha cookin' I’m starved." He stumbled into the kitchen, still drowsy from sleep, nevermind that it was almost lunchtime.
"She ain’t no housekeeper boy, make your own damn food." Bobby countered.
"Cool it, you two. And Dean, I’m making burgers. And apple pie."
"A woman after my heart!" He exclaimed. Putting his hands over his heart. Bobby gave him a hard-hitting glare and you just rolled your eyes.
You turned back to your previous activity of slicing up tomatoes. Dean stayed in the kitchen and the two of you chatted aimlessly while Dean flipped the burgers.
You missed having him around. He was a comfort just like his brother and always seemed to be cheery, even on the darkest of days. He made long car trips slip by easily and made dinners stretch on for hours.
One night, hours past the normal time you’d be asleep, the two of you stayed up late into the night. He brought up the subject of hunting, specifically his father. He had started hunting with a bunch of other hunters and left Dean to do a couple salt and burns. He wanted you to join him, hunt with him, travel in his car around the country. Be a Winchester. And you happily joined him.
The next morning Dean was packing the duffel bags into an old pickup truck, along with a bunch of salt and gasoline.
You turned to face Bobby on the doorstep.
"I'm going to miss you."
"Oh, don’t go all sappy on me." Bobby grumbled, trying to hide his own emotions.
That got a chuckle through the sniffles. You were filled with melancholy sadness about leaving the place you called home for almost a decade. You had built up your life in Sioux Falls, all sorts of memories created in the paper thin walls.
"Hey, no chick flick moments!"
You turned back to see that Dean had finished loading everything into the truck and was leaning against its dusty door waiting.
"Go on then ya idgit. I’m sure I'll see, soon."
You gave him a last hug and kiss on the cheek before galloping down the stairs to join Dean.
With a hard door slam and a wave goodbye, the rusty truck pulled out and onto the main road. You left your home, towards a new life.

Chapter Text

January 2002
Dean-23
Sam-18
You-18
You hated doing credit card frauds. You felt terrible for swindling rich old ladies out of hundreds of dollars. But you had to, being a hunter was not cheap and Dean was terrible with computers. He instead spent his time hustling pool.
If only Sam was here. He would do it, all the research and scams online wouldn’t be all on you. He would help when Dean got too tipsy or pass the time when he was out at the bar. He would reassure you that they would probably be dead if hunters didn't exist.
Of course, you still had the late night phone calls and frequent emails to entertain you. He made sleepless nights feel shorter and not as lonely. But you craved more.
You wished that he could sit down beside you and pull you close. You wanted to feel his chest pressing against you and his hand stroking your hair. You wanted the comfort only your Sammy could offer.
Instead, you were sat at the edge of a creaky bed in yet another motel room. Dean was out at a bar as a closing to the case, and probably would be back until the morning.
The silent fears and hidden demons crept into your mind and settled into the vast voice of endless and horrible thoughts. The only escape was the phone and the soothing voice on the other side. You grasped at the phone and shakingly dialled Sam's number.
He answered on the last ring before voicemail. The entire time it was ringing the monsters were crawling deeper, penetrating into the depth. Your nails were bitten and your hair wet and chewed when he finally picked up.
"Hello?"Just the sound of his voice pushed back at the darkness.
"Sam? Can we talk?"
"Um, I’m at a party, is it an emergency, I was going to call you later." He yelled over the thumping music in the background.
Now you felt worse. You didn't want to burden Sam, you now regretted ever calling him.
"Well… it’s nothing, I’m fine. Sorry to bother you."
But you didn’t sound fine. Tears were gently flowing down your face and your were sniffing. That added with the anxiety in your voice gave away your emotions. Sam immediately regretted his response
"No, it’s not fine. What happened?"
"Are you sure I’m not interrupting?"
"I was just leaving." Sam reassured you although it was far from the truth.
"It’s just been really hard lately. Without you. Dean's been pretty distant and I, um I miss you…"
"I miss you too." He said it in a heartbeat beat. And he knew the struggles first hand. He had grown up a Winchester, always on the road, always stuck with Dean. He understood.
"You should just.."
The sounds that followed just ignited your fear and frustration even more.
"Jess! Jess, give me the phone back!"
You could hear Sam yelling, but it became more and more distant. Then a slurring female voice came over the phone.
"Sorry-hesss gonna calll ya back! Causessss were at a partyyy!"
Then the muffled music was replaced by silence as the call ended.
You sat at the end of the sagging mattress until Dean got back from the bar way past midnight. The conversation played over in your head. The darkness swelling as you thought of the voice on the other side of the phone.
Jess. This was the first time you heard her voice. The first time that you had even known about her. Sam had never mentioned her, and he didn’t mention her after.
Not until you showed up on their doorstep with Dean by your side. Not until that fateful night when Sam was left heartbroken and she was left dead. Not until you saw Sam again and your life began.

Chapter Text

May 2003
Dean-24
Sam-20
You-19
"Happy birthday!"
You and Dean were sat at a bar almost screaming happy birthday to Sam over the phone.
After a horrible hunt and a horrible week, Dean had finally allowed you to bust out your fake ID and the two of you strolled down the street to the local bar.
"Thank you, but my birthday was last week and you two are obviously very drunk."
"It’s not my fault she’s a lightweight." Dean replied, getting way too close to the phone as if to whisper it, but in his drunken state, the whole bar could hear him.
"You let her drink! Dean, she’s underage!"
"Shhh shush shhh." you mumbled into the phone. "It’s a secret."
"Just promise me you’ll stop drinking now and go home."
"But I just ordered another beer." Dean wined, still with no awareness of how loud he was.
You erupted into a fit of giggles as Dean tried and failed to motion at the bartender for another drink. He was horribly clumsy and you were a very giggly drunk.
You swatted at the phone and ended the phone call, but not before mumbling.
"Bye Sammy, happy birthday."

You lapsed into silence. Dean sat next to you nursing what he promised was his last beer. You had your arm supporting your head as the alcohol made you slightly drowsy. You slowly stirred the sugary cocktail that had gotten you drunk quick.
As your sugar crash hit, you moved so you could rest gently on Dean's shoulder. He replied by wrapping his arm around your sleepy frame.
"I’mmm tiward." You spoke as if five years old again.
"We should head back then." Dean said, still soberer than you by a long shot.
"Justtt one more whisky." you mumbled back.
The shot slipped down your throat, leaving a burning trail. The kick left you coughing and Dean just chuckled.
You resumed your previous position and slowly began to fall asleep. But just before you completely passed out Dean’s voice rang through. His breath smelled of beer and the vinegar chips he had earlier. He whispered breathily in your ear.
"I love you."
You stiffened at his quiet confession. He felt it and met your eyes just as you looked at him.
"I.. I thought you were asleep."
"I.. thought you.. hated me?"
"Never"

Needless to say the next month or so was awkward, to say the least. Nothing more happened though. He didn’t kiss you or anything. He just said three words that changed the path leading ahead.
The next morning you avoided each other like The Plague. In the car trip, you kept your eyes glued outside. Meals were filled with silence and the occasional ‘pass the ketchup’.
But you warmed up. He saved your butt on a couple hunts and you returned the favour. You slowly moved past it, but you never forgot.
Never.

Chapter Text

October 2004
Dean-25
Sam-21
You-20
Three years without Sammy. Three years with Dean, more or less.
You hunted with Jo, Ellen, Dean and John. The five of you, plus Bobby as back up, became an unstoppable team. Jo and you usually hung back, on the orders that you were too young and better at researching. So you spent your time with a grumpy Jo who thought it was sexist and in the backseat of the Impala.
The lot of you took on huge vamps nests and families of werewolves. You went up against demons, wendigos, ghosts, basically anything that was supernatural.
You went through hell and back. Ellen got possessed by a demon and went on a killing spree. John got bit by a vamp and Dean got badly torn up by a werewolf. Jo had also been kidnapped by a coven of witches.
You had been lucky, the worst thing that happens to you was serial killer you had mistaken for a demon shooting at you. Only one bullet hit you and it just grazed your thigh. It left you with a scar and habit of never wearing shorts (it’s not like you wore skirts of dresses anyway).
The three years had changed you. You became an amazing hunter. You grew to love the taste of whiskey. You moved past childlike wishes and dreams and learned to put more important things first. You didn't dwindle on useless astronomy facts or crushes, you grew up.
Three years and the feelings still weighed down your heart. You wanted to hold his hand and feel his lips brush against yours again. You wanted all his banter with Dean and his intelligence.
You often wished that John would decide to take a hunt in or around California so you could go and see him. But he seemed to avoid the topic or any place that reminded him of Sam. It was as if John only had one son, and no one questioned it. Instead, you took Sam's place. You did the research, joked with Dean and slowly you started to forget too.
The phone calls started to morph from every day to once a week to once a month. Sam said it was because he had a lot of school work and was busy at class. You said that you were busy with hunts and was sleeping more.
These were both false. You never slept and often stayed up all night. The hunts that you went on were small ones and you often stayed behind researching with Jo.
You wondered, if your reasons were untrue were his also. Was he doing something g else? Someone else? That thought floated around in your head for a long time.
Had he moved on? Was it that girl Jess?
You still felt the same. How could he have moved on and forgotten about you? You thought about him constantly, was he doing the same?
You didn't call him because you did to want to inconvenience him, or worse, a girl answered. So you stopped calling, and so did he.
You tried to move past home too. The bars you frequented were filled with guys that flirted relentlessly. You chatted with a couple of them, the conversation helping you through another lonely night. There was only one instance where it became more.
You had waited long enough. You knew he felt the same way and the alcohol was the only thing that gave you the strength to admit that you felt the same.
You woke up the next morning back in the motel room, a warm body was sleeping softly next to you.
As soon as he opened his eyes the flashbacks came tumbling in.

Jealousy was the only emotion you felt. On a spur of the moment decision, you picked up your phone and called the number you had memorized a thousand times.
"Hello?"
You almost threw the phone across the crowded bar: she answered.
"Oh, sorry to bother you, I’ll go…"
You tried to calm down, contain the tears that were threatening to fall.
"No, no! You're looking for Sammy right?"
How dare she call him Sammy. That was Dean’s name for him, he barely let you call him that.
"Really it’s fine. I'll call back."
Before she could reply you snapped your phone closed.
You felt- you felt so many emotions they were hard to count. You suppressed them, pushing them deep down. You felt jealousy and hatred and anger. You also felt sadness and despair and want. You wanted him, you wanted love, you wanted someone.
And somebody met your gaze across the bar. His green eyes filled with hope as you pulled on a smile. You could get past this, you will prevail.
You gave him a wink and a flirty smile before melting into the crowd and out the door.
You felt his hand on your shoulder before you saw him. The simple action brought back a strange feeling of Deja vu of standing in that supermarket. The day that you first admitted to yourself that maybe liking both Winchester’s was a possibility. A possibility that you tried to deny ever since.
You turned around to face him. His face was half eliminated by the street lights and flickering neon lights. This brought about another wave of nostalgia. That night under the brilliant lights where you first fell in love.
Recreating the events of that night, he pulled you close, noses just inches apart. Slowly his lips came to rest against yours. You pushed up and ran your hands through his short hair. This just pushed you over the limit. The memories became too much. You pushed him away.
Fight or flight- you always picked flight.
"I’m sorry. I can’t do this right now."
"Why?" He wasn't mad or angry, he was just confused.
"You remind me too much of your brother."
You understood how that sounded. I like your brother more, your inferior- but it was true. You thought that drowning your emotions in others would help, but it just caused a flood that destroyed everything. That phone call was what broke the dam holding you together.
So the next morning you woke up like you always did, next to Dean. As you explained to him what had happened and how you felt, he understood. And just like before your relationship repaired itself, but differently. Late night kissing became a frequent escape and emotions shifted. You gently moved on, just like Sammy did. Until he came crashing back.

Chapter Text

September 2005
1.01 Pilot
Dean-26
Sam-22
You-21
You had lost all contact with Sam at this point.You tried to cut all ties. You got a new phone and a new number, trying to wipe away the past, but it only smudged.
You had moved on, left Sam's arms to land back into Dean's. You moved on the way you never thought you could. You and Dean had gone farther than expected, but you never turned back.
You had promised yourself that you would stay loyal to Sam, but look how that turned out. You didn't apply to Stanford, and even if you had you wouldn't have gotten in, you barely graduated high school.
You should have told him long ago, but Dean promised you he would. You hated having to make excuses and dodging. It was overwhelming and all you wanted was for someone to hold you, comfort you. Even though there was two of them there was still no one.
Sam had gone through so much and the last thing you wanted to do was make it worse. He had lost his girlfriend, his safe and steady life. He left it all to join you to save his father. So you gave him room, didn't throw all your own baggage on him.
When that sleek black car pulled up outside the motel was when the melancholy hit you again. It was just like all those years ago, before all the drama. Just like old times. Life was repeating in an endless loop.
The day he got back was mental. He was broken and depressed. He had just seen the love of his life get killed the same way as his mother. And you felt for him, he was hurting and you gave him space. But Dean also changed.
The PDA changes from prolific to a desert in a second. You didn’t share a bed or hold hands or kiss. It was like he had dumped you when Sam was around. Or like you had never been a thing in the first place. It was almost worse than the friend zone.
You knew why, it was obvious. He was giving Sam time to move on, not putting pressure on him, and not trying to disrupt your relationship with Sam. Dean probably thought that letting you go would get you back together with Sam, save both of you. But you didn’t want to be saved.
You wanted Dean to rest his hand on your thigh when he’s driving, but now you sit in the backseat.
So when Sam whizzed back into your life due to unexpected circumstances that you were not prepared for. He realized, and so were you, you had someone who helped you mend.
Even if he didn’t see it, Sam knew. It was the eyelines that met across the room and the winks that Dean would give you. It was the drives that were filled with inside jokes and your need to touch him, feel his arm or pat his leg. Still, Dean didn’t tell him.
You want his lips to melt against yours, but now it’s just quick pecks. You want to feel his body pressing against yours, feel his breath on your neck and listen to his heartbeat quicken. You want him to love you so hard that you couldn’t walk the next morning, and you want passion that leaves you breathless.
Now it was all gone, replaced with a bad taste in your mouth and an ache in your stomach.
You were sat in the washroom, your not so secret hideaway. Tears were streaming down your face and you brace yourself against the edge of the sink.
It had gotten to be too much. He was ignoring you, just like Sam did. History was repeating and repeating. Everything you said or did reminded you of your childhood.
That’s when the door knocked and you opened it to reveal yet another memory.
A boy with shaggy hair and puppy dog eyes was waiting on the other side. The walls threatened to topple as he pushed it open.
The same routine. The same words yelled through the door. The same anger. That same sadness. This time you answered with the truth.
"I’m not sad that you moved on, that you found Jess. I’m mad at myself for clinging to a dream that I new I would never come true. I’m sad that I myself moved on and thought that you wouldn’t come back, that I have to explain to you that I’m sleeping with Dean. I'm cursing myself for feeling this way."
"You're with Dean?" The door creaked open, revealing his heart broken face. You almost crumbled at the sight.
"I was."He didn't answer so you continued
"I was sad and heartbroken, and he.. he said he loved me." You let the last part out with a release of breath and a sigh.
"I’m sorry." You whimpered as you gaze down at your toes and tried to focus on the chipped nail polish and not Sam.
"So?" That caught your attention. You head snapped up to meet his.
"I had sex with your brother! How are you not angry?" You screamed at him, angry that he wasn’t angry himself. How dare he not care. You wanted him to tear you a new one. You wanted fury and white knuckles not puppy eyes.
Still, he didn't reply so you took a deep breath and finish.
"It’s not like we are now."
Both sadness and hope lit up on his face, but you were too angry to notice. He gently pulled you into a hug, stroking your hair. All your anger was forgotten, all the tension released with a gentle touch.
"Why?" he whispered into your hair. The breath sent shivers coursing through your body.
"I don’t know, he’s ignoring me, it’s like I’m friend zoned, just like…" You stumbled and paused, you didn't want to finish the thought.
“Just like when we were together.” He finishes your sentence for you.
Maybe it wasn’t so bad that he was back, sure there was the Dean problem but you were back in Sam's arms. Even if it was due to horrible circumstances, it was where you belonged.

Chapter Text

September 2006
Episode 2.01 In My Time Of Dying
Dean-27
Sam-23
You-22
You had almost moved on. You had almost settled down. You had escaped.
You never thought you would be the one to get out. Your whole life since the age of 14 was hunting, granted a big part of that was also the Winchesters.
Here you go again. They always seem to meander their way into every thought, dream, conversation. They're inescapable.
You had escaped their grasp but you still had the bruises
You had gone to stay with Bobby, returned to your roots. You picked up a couple hunts along the way, but slowly the nests turned into demons than just salt and burns. There wasn’t the excitement and heroism in it anymore. That with all the research you did alone and the local police's sexism, it just felt like a chore.
Bobby had welcomed you back with open arms. He said he understood, he said that no matter what happened you had a home with him.
One thing stuck with you, he had used it several times while you were growing. You were haunted by the death of your parents and you often felt alone. He would say one simple phrase.
Family don’t end with blood.
The two of you had made it your motto. Long phone calls were punctuated with it, it was spoken softly after fights or a long day.
It rang in your head alongside dean’s words. I understand. You wanted to believe it, that someone else could empathize with you but you instead deemed it impossible. No one else was in this exact same position, not by a long shot.

It had been a long night filled with whiskey and self-doubt. You could feel the hangover as soon as you opened your eyes. Your head pounded and your body was aching. Sitting up made you dizzy and getting out of bed was nearly impossible. Your feet fumble on the floor and your hands dance between clutching onto your flipping stomach and hanging out for balance as you manoeuvre yourself to where the ringing was coming from.
The clothes from last night were chucked onto the dusty chair in the corner. The obnoxious sound was echoing out of the pocket of your jeans. As you neared it intensified and your head hurt more and more. All you wanted was to switch it off.
You grabbed it, desperate to turn it off, then you paused when you saw the caller id. The ringing stopped, but not due to your action.
The list of reasons for the call grew in your head as your mind raced. Were they in trouble, was he drunk and lonely. Would this turn into a booty call? What were his intentions?
Before you completely lost your mind it began to ring again. You still were second-guessing and anxious. You tried to block it out and answers the call you hoped had bad news.
"Sam?" Your voice was small and cracked, you had obviously had a bad night.
"I’m so glad you answered, I thought you wouldn’t… I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t." He sounded frantic and as if he had been crying. He was rambling and you cut in with a simple question.
"Where are you?"
The drive was long. It should have only been a few outs but it felt like a lifetime. You tried entertaining yourself with music but the radio was shit. So you drove in silence.
Every bad driver made you curse and red lights made you clutch hard on the steering wheel. You were never one to speed, and you still aren’t, but as you drove your speed steadily increased.
By the time you actives you were riding on fumes and were beyond lucky that the police hadn’t pulled you over.
You ditched the stolen car and burst through the hospitals front doors. The nurse at the front desk directed you to the room of Elroy McGillicutty, the name you knew was on John's fake insurance. You walked in to find John alive and awake with Sam by his side. They turned to look at you as you walked in.
"You called her?" John's voice rang through, weak and gruff.
"Dad, let her be, she's here for Dean, not you."
"How is he?" You still didn't know about Dean’s state.
"He's still in a coma, the doctors are saying he won't make it." Sam's voice cracked at his words.
"But you're going to find some mojo healer though, right."
"But Sam, I don't know if we're gonna find anyone."John piped up, completely ignoring you.
"Why not? I found that faith healer before." Sam replied, on the verge of anger.
"All right, that was, that was one in a million."
You too were now furious, did John not care, not even about his own son.
"So what? Do we just sit here with our thumbs up our ass?" You asked
"No, I said we'd look. All right? I'll check under every stone." John paused "Where's the Colt?" he asked Sam.
Sam turned to you. "Could you give us a moment, in private."
Your mind was processing what you had heard as you left the bright white hospital room. What is the colt, why doesn't John care about Dean?
After sitting on the uncomfortable seats in the hallway for a while, Sam left the room and sat down next to you. You naturally leaned against him and his arm snaked around your waist, drawing you closer.
He told you everything. The colt, John and the demon he was hunting, Dean's state and what he had to do. He had to go back to Bobby's, get the colt, as well as some ingredients john had said, were for protection
You sighed when he was finished. "So that's it, you're still hunting. I thought you wanted to stop, get out of the life." His body tensed at your words, he was anticipating the worst.
"I tried, you know that, but family comes first. You understand right."
"Ya." There was that word again. Understand. It meant nothing, it wasn't a promise or a secret, yet for you, it carried so much baggage. How could someone actually understand? No one ever did or ever will. It was a cheap form of empathy, one that was exchanged over brunch or after meaningless fights. It carried no weight. It was used without recognition of what it meant.
"Do you wanna come with, I could really use some help." Your heart rate quickens at the thought. You really wanted to. It had been lonely with only Bobby again and Jo only visited occasionally.
"Hunting?"
"What else."
"Sorry, I just haven't been hunting much lately, I kinda got out." Shit! Why did you say that sure it was true but I didn't increase your odds of acceptance. It sounded like an excuse.
"Oh, well…."
"But I'll help you. For family right?"
It was that moment that tied the knot so to speak. There was no escaping now, you were a Winchester and family comes first, no matter the situation. The future heald so much and you were going to face it with the brothers by your side.
Family don't end with blood; family comes first.

Chapter Text

November 2006
Episode 2.06 No Exit
Dean-27
Sam-23
You-22
Jo-21
You loved Jo, even if she could be a bitch sometimes. You were often jealous of her. She would ditch you and the research to flirt with guys at bars and fool around. You often chidded yourself for feeling this way, its not like you wanted any of theose guys anyway. Up untill now.
Jo had gone and gotten herself almost killed. You couldn’t save her, she already had two princes. You had been stuck in the drafty motel room reviewing the case over and over until it was embedded in your mind. Then had been forced to keep guard instead of help. You had been put in the bench and now you knew why Jo fussed so much.
The trip to the roadhouse was silent, at least between you and Jo. Ellen was lecturing Jo like the world was going to end any minute. She was angry and over protective, and down right pissed.
That just left you stuck in the back seat, stranded.
When you finally escaped to Jo’s room she broke down. Her duffle flew and slammed into the wall, sagging into a pile on the floor next to her bed.
You walked over and wraped your arm around her, knowing what she was facing. Her mothers disapproval and unrequited love. The need to help and fit in. She had gone for several reasons.
The need for affirmation and freedom. She need to prove that she was a good hunter and could handle her own. Her mothers intervention and her need for rescuing broke her spirit. You felt for her, more than you thought. You wanted just as much as she did. Everyone does. We need conformation and acknowledgement.
But there was another reason she was so upset.
Those Winchester’s seemed to stir up trouble wherever they went. No one was safe, not even themselves. Dean in particular. You hate to sound dramatic but- he leaves a trail of broken hearts behind him, yourself including. Alongside Jo it seemed.
She was young, just a couple months younger than you but still innocent by your standards. Her mother protected her to much from the outside world, she was almost forced to rebel. You didn’t blame her, her entire life had been in a bubble inside a bubble. She didn’t no anything other than hunting, and she hardly knew that.
That night was spent in bed and watching tv. She barely spoke and ignored you. it was just as the movie was drawing to a close and the sun was past set when she piped up.
“You dont have to stay, I can handle her on my own.”
“I know I don't but I want to, I haven’t seen you in a while and the amount of testosterone I have to deal with is suffocating.” That would have squeezed out a chuckle under normal circumstances but she remained quite.
“How is it? Last thing I heard you were with Dean?” Her voice was low and slightly anxious as she asked the question.
“Not anymore.” The same face Sam had washed over her face. You noticed and prodded her to spill the secret you already knew.
“It’s Dean ok. I like him. I was fine with you dating him, at least I told myself that. Are you ok though, what happened?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it, but you-Dean!”
“He doesn’t like me. I know it, I’m just wasting my time.”
“Were you even with us the entire time? He was all over you.”
Jo didn’t reply. You could almost see the gears turning in her head as she snuggled down into a more comfortable position. You joined her as the late hour gently over came you with sleep.
What Jo confesed makes you ponder your own emotions. If Jo goes for Dean then he's obviously off limits, girl code. Its not like you wanted to choose, and you definitely didn't want to call it choosing. You were hoping that everything would just work out or that one of the would make a move for you. And now it seems like Jo has taken it into her own hands.

Chapter Text

March 2007
Episode 2.17 Heart
Dean-28
Sam- 23
You-22/23
You hate werewolves. They are the bane of your existence, except of course Garth: he’s nice.
It probably started when Dean got attacked by a werewolf and you were helpless but to watch. Your heart screamed otherwise.
Sam found a case in San Francisco, what would promise to be a simple hunt. Instead Sammy boy falls in love with a monster and ditches you with Dean. Your heart couldn’t have been more broken. That’s when you truly started to hate them.
You thought that you were moving in the right direction. All the times that that he ‘lost’ Rock Paper Scissors (even though you both know Dean always chooses scissors) and had to share a bed with you. He would back you up in fights and made sure that you were fine after hunts, often having to stitch you up. Everything was perfect.
So when he slept with a freaking werewolf ou were upset.
You could try and reason with yourself, say that you hated Madison the moment you saw her, but that was far from the truth. And you couldn’t blame Sammy either, he could do whatever the fuck he wants. Your the one screwing it all up, you always are.
So after proving that she wasn't a werewolf and then finding she still was-you were exhausted. You had taken shift watching her and of course you got the very worst of the graveyard shift. Dean let you go back to the motel to sleep when he took over so you could maybe get some sleep. Even with the watch, you still slept the same amount you usually had.
You awoke in an empty room.
The next day you just drove. The music blared through the speakers, louder than Dean would ever normally allow but he didn't seem to care. For once Sam didn't complain about the old rock that filled the chevy. Normally he would complain and fuss, Dean would retort and their argument would drown out the music. This time the music was loud and the Winchesters were dead silent.
This was when you daydreamed. When the trees passed by in and endless row and the clouds are marching along to the sound of the wind whipping through the window. You could lose all focus on reality and go tumbling down a spiral. This time it was filled with low breaths and the squeak of skin on seats. The loud silence disappeared and all that was left was tension.
You tried to cling to reality, prove to yourself that you were strong. A stupid little love triangle won't bring you down, if you have to you can leave again. Jo had begged for you to visit more often and you could use this as an excuse. As the thoughts floated around in your head you eyes auto focused on the back of Sam’s head. You barely noticed when he shifted, aware of eyes on him. You only noticed your blank stare when he spoke, shattering your thoughts.
“You ok?”
You blinked rapidly, your eyes had dried out and you were desperately trying to bring back some of its lubrication.
“Oh, ya I’m fine. Sorry just blanked out.” You answered drowsily, still exhausted and drunk on feelings. Sam just turned back around.
After a long series of ads a new song came on, one you liked. You had it almost embedded in your mind. For a while you resisted the urge to sing, containing yourself the hums and the slightest finger drumming. Then the chorus started you couldn't help but sing it.

Torn between two lovers, feelin' like a fool
Lovin' both of you is breakin' all the rules
Torn between two lovers, feelin' like a fool
Lovin' you both is breakin' all the rules

As the sappy lyrics mumbleded out of your mouth it hit you too close to home. The soft music echoed your life and it made you cringe. Of all the times you heard it and sang along, this time you finally understood the message.

You mustn't think you've failed me
Just because there's someone else
You were the first real love I ever had
And all the things I ever said
I swear they still are true
For no one else can have the part of me I gave to you

The occupants of the front seat seemed to realise when the second verse came out with a sob. Some of the lyrics were almost quoting things you had thought or said. Just hearing the song was ripping you apart.
Then it just cut out. You glanced up to see Dean’s hand pull away from the console and return to the wheel. The drive was then returned to uncomfortable silence. Slowly you start to doze off.
You awake in Baby, parked outside of a motel. Sitting up you notice that both brothers are gone. You shift and stretch before making your way out of the car and up towards the office.
Dean busts out through the doors, keys jangling and bags thumping. “Sorry, they only got one room left. Looks like your gonna have to share kiddo.”
Not only does the realisation of having to share a bed with one of the Winchester’s makes you cringe, but also Dean’s use of the word ‘kiddo’. Could he have moved on any more. It’s was like you had gone down to his friend and then his sister. It was infuriating he little he thought of you despite your past.
But then you thought of Jo. Hopefully someday you could be sisters in law. Or she could at least join you hunting, just like old times. But mostly you just used her as an excuse not to give in to your feelings for Dean.
Sam followed behind his brother as they made their way to room 10. You ran to catch up after grabbing your stuff from the trunk.
It was like every other motel room you had ever stayed in. Cheap tacky wallpaper and old scuffed up furniture. The beds were doubles and probably squeaky as hell. Dean had already dumped his stuff on the farthest bed after ‘winning’ Rock Paper Scissors against Sam.
You lazily flopped onto the other bed and moaned about the long drive and how much you needed food and sleep. Your pleas were answered by Dean.
“Well then get up princess, let’s get you to a bar. I need me some pie.”
Umm, pie. It did sound good. On the other side you would have to face the fact that dean was also there for the ‘frisky women’ as he called them.
“Sorry Deano, but I’d rather not watch you drunkenly hit on horny women with daddy issues. I have a little dignity left.”
“What did you say to me?” He was pissed now but you were more grumpy then cautious at this point.
“Leave her alone Dean. It’s been a long day.”
“Ya for you, what has she done?”
You rolled over and sat up. He was begging for it now. “Have you not noticed that I have done almost all the research for the past hundred hunts. When we hunted together you never did one ounce to help me and you still don’t. Sam here is the only one he gives even the tiniest damn about me. I get that this is a ‘family issue’ but guess what, I’m family too. So suck it up and stop being so rude to me!”
You finally let it all out, it felt so good. All the emotions and criticism held in for to long, finally released.
But no one answered. Dean just huffed before walking out, slamming the door behind him. Sam just stood there surprised as you stormed into the bathroom.
After having a long hot shower you felt somewhat refreshed. You dried and put up your hair, brushed your feathers and washed your face before releasing that you hadn’t brought in any clothes. The only reason the toiletries were in the bathroom was because Sam had already started in packing.
With your towel wrapped close, you poked your head out the door, Sam was already changed and in bed. So you quickly scurried and grabbed the green bag you knew had your clothes in it.
After finally changing into your most modest but still appealing pyjamas, you made your way over to your side of the bed. Sam was sat upright, pillows stolen from the other bed behind his back. The blue white light from his laptop eliminated his face as his eyes skim through a lore website.
You pulled back the covers and wedged your way underneath, paying careful attention to Sam’s limbs. After settling into a comfortable position also sitting up, you asked him about his research.
“Have you found a new case already?”
“Not yet, I’m sure Dean will find something. I’m just refreshing my memory.”
“Ok. Just wondering.”
You gently slouched down and pulled the covers up to your shoulders. Maybe it was the close proximity, the heat rediating of his body, or sleep over taking you but you lay on the very edge of the bed. You faced away from him and stared at the far corner of the opposite bed.
As you settled down you became more aware of the body next to you. It's not like this was a new thing. Over the past couple months, and even before that, you had shared a bed with one of the Winchesters several times. You tried to make it as least awkward as you could, not even acknowledging the tension.
This time was different for some reason. Just knowing that he was meer inches from you made you tingle. You couldn't help the thoughts that entered your brain. All the things he could do with those large hands that were currently tapping away. The hair that was hanging over his face, just begging to be felt, brushed, pulled. The lips that pursed, all you wanted was to feel them melt against yours again, forever. But instead you kept to your side, stiff and full of butterflies.
Soon, Sam had gotten tired and switched the lamp of. The room was filled with darkness, there was now no excuse not to go to sleep. Yet, your mind never ceased. He shuffled around and settled down next to you. His broad shoulders took up most of the room, and he rested his hands on his chest, further spreading out.
You wanted to say something, but nothing would come out. The tension was almost unbearable and it was driving you insane. You had to keep reminding yourself that he had moved on, he didn't like you anymore, and there's also Dean in the picture; anything to try and persuade yourself to let him go. Then your thoughts were filled with the past, as it usually is.
That night under the fireworks, the soft brushing of lips and the slight buckling of knees. All the phone calls in the middle of the night, the sparks that danced no matter the distance and his heartfelt words. Sitting in the bright white hallway when you thought you would lose Dean, his arm warm and comforting, that long ride to Bobby’s where he saved you from another boring life and promised you the moon. You wanted him so bad.
You noticed the tears before you could stop them. A silent river cascading down your blotchy cheek, seeping into the pillow. You wiggled your arm from under the covers and wiped them away, a sniffle escaping. The man next to you moved at the sound, his body nearing yours.
“Its ok.” He breathed. His hot form was so close it took everything not to roll around and face him, curling into his side and bawling, and finally you did.
He held you as all your frustration was released into his shirt. You clenched it in your fists and left salty puddles on the front. But he didnt care. He cuddled you until your breathing settled down and you relaxed almost enough to fall asleep.
“Its ok im here.”
A gently lullaby singing you to sleep. A peaceful dreamless sleep. One you would never forget, and wished you could relive. Insomnia was a bitch and you draded sleep. But with sam next to you it was almost comforting, or at least bearable.
The morning would come quick, along with stress and anxiety, but right now everything feels right, and this is where you belong. At least for now.

Chapter Text

April 2007
2.21/22 all hell breaks loose part 1 and 2
Dean-28
Sam-23
you-22/23
The roadhouse is burned to a crisp, Sam is gone, and Dean didn't get his pie. Three things Dean was talking about. You didn’t focus on the latter. All you could think about was the time you spent in what was now a pile of ash, and the man with the hazel eyes.
The trip to Cold Oak South Dakota drags on indefinitely. Dean is a bundle of nerves, raging and yelling at anything that moves. This offsets you and Bobby, you're both silent. You focused your attention on the sky and the road ahead, unlike Dean.
As soon as the cars stops you fling open the door. Somehow Dean is already ahead of you and is racing away from the car and towards where the sounds of a fight are coming from. You pray that it's not Sam as you near, but it's the opposite.
You see Sam standing over an unconscious man. He tosses aside the metal bar you can infer he knocked the other guy out with, and looks up to see you racing towards him. Dean is sprinting alongside you, yells echoing through the deserted town.
For a second Sam is clutching his arm and staggering towards you as well. Your flashlight focuses on him and you slow down to a walk. Then you notice movement out of the corner of your eye, Dean sees it to. But it's too late.
The knife makes a horrifying sound as it enters Sam’s back. You see the surprise in Sam’s face and then the agony. You take off sprinting, your screams matching his.
Time seems to slow down. You barely register Bobby taking off after Sam’s attacker, and you pay no attention to Dean. Sam collapses on you, his freakishly long legs buckling. Dean takes his weight as the three of you collapse onto the ground in a yelling, bleeding, sobbing mess.
Dean is trying to comfort his brother, you can hear the urging and despair in his voice as he horsley repeats. “Hey, look at me. It’s not even that bad. It’s not even that bad, all right? Sammy? Sam! Hey, listen to me. We’re gonna patch you up, okay? You’ll be good as new. Huh? I’m gonna take care of you. I’m gonna take you care of you. I’ve got you. That’s my job, right? Watch out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother?”
Your stroking his hair, hyperventilating so much you can barely get out any words. Tears are streaming down your face and it seems like the world is ending. Sam's eyes slowly fliker close and he collapses, but not before you mumble out a repetition of your own.
“I love you.”
You repeat it until it loses meaning and you get tongue tied. Until it makes no sense and seems to lose meaning. Then you repeat it in your mind, an endless loop, wishing that he could say it back. Hoping that he had heard it.
You sit there, numb, rocking Sam’s dead corpse, Dean’s cries echoing in the background as you mumble over and over again-
I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you...

You can hear Dean and Bobby arguing, but you pay no attention. Sam is dead and nothing else matters. You are so overcome with grief that nothing can take your attention.
Bobby brought fried chicken, but you eat none. How can you eat, how can he move on so fast. How can they be discussing what to do with Sam, it’s barely been a day- shouldn’t there be a witch or some damn hoodo shit happening; do they not even care?
Then the sounds are over, Bobby left. Something about the end of the world and how Dean’s given it all he’s got. You just stay sitting on the rickety chair.
Dean looks like a lost puppy when he turns around. You wonder if he's going to yell at you to leave, but he does the opposite - he sits down beside you.
“You and my brother then, huh.”
You don't answer, you barely heard him. The endless loop of I love you is never ending and you are praying for Dean to just leave you alone.
“I'm sorry.”
It just slips out. You should have said that a long time ago.
Tears continually fall as you avoid Dean’s gaze. You know that he is in the exact same position and you give him space.
After too much silence he answers back to your apology.
“There is nothing for you to be sorry for. You love him and I'm happy for you. I was never good for you, I was just easily accessible and lonely.”
“Don't say that Dean.” You say looking up to meet his eyes, brushing the tears out of your own before you continue.
“I never felt like you were just a fling or a rebound, you were perfect, you, you are perfect.” You stumbled on your words, not quite understanding what Dean was saying.
There was no reply, there was no need. He just outstretched his arm and you fell into place, your hearts beating together and tears matching as sadness drowned out all other emotions.
That was the last thing you remember before sleep took over. You couldn’t remember the last time you slept and you were drowning in exhaustion.

It wasn't Dean standing up or mumbling out melancholy words that woke you, and it definitely wasn't him leaving.
It was the soft creaking of springs and Sam's whispered words. It was the thumping as he made his was to the mirror.
You thought you were dreaming. You bolted awake so fast you almost fell out of the chair.
Sam turned around and noticed you awake. A small smile graced his face before pain as he tugged up his shirt and looked at the wound on his back.
You shook off the surprise and almost sprinted over to Sam’s still weak form. You clung close to him, begging for it not to be a dream, yet not quite believing it was real. His hands wrapped at your waist and yours found his hair. You gripped onto him like the world was ending and kissed him until you couldn’t breath. He then gently stepped away, still weak and in pain, before asking a question that broke the perfect moment.
“Where’s Dean?” He asked, you took some time to answer, what the hell was happening? You felt numb and weak, news buckling and heart aching.
Ummm I-I don’t know. What, what are you here. How-you were, I thought you..” stumbling over your words, you were to amazed by the sight in front of you.
That’s when Dean busted through the door. “Sammy? Thank god.”
“Hey.” The hazel eyes broke away and turned to face his brother.
Dean pulled Sam into a tight embrace. He gives you a look over his brothers shoulder ‘don't you dare say anything’. You now know what must have happened, the only one who doesn’t is poor Sammy. And Dean’s going to have hell to pay, literally.
“Owwww. Uh, Dean…” Dean had gotten Sam into a death grp just as you stepped away.
Dean released Sam “I'm sorry. I'm sorry, man. I'm just... I'm just happy to see you up and around, that's all.” Sam nodded, looking puzzled “Come on, sit down.”
Your too shocked to move as the brothers situate themsel acroyfrom where you were previously sitting. You glare at Dean. You suddenly briskly barge out of the room, motioning for Dean to follow you.
Dean takes his time ‘explaining’ what happened then meets you in the hallway.
“What the hell Dean, how many years?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The fucking demon deal, did you not realize that I would know? I'm not stupid. How many years?”
“One. And it's worth it ok, you get to be with my brother and I’ll get out of the way. You can tell him that I died on a hunt.”
That one sentence broke you.
“Really Dean, you think I want that? That we'd be better of without you?”
“You'll have Sammy, I'll just be in the way.”
Then he turned and stormed back through the door, calling for Sam so they could get some food. You were left standing in the dusty hallway as the walls seemed to close in on you. How could Dean think that?
It broke your heart that Dean would sacrifice himself like that. But then you thought of your Sammy. Those hours when he was gone were like hell on earth, you didn’t want to move on, let alone keep living. You couldn't imagine living a life without him, but you also couldn't think of life without Dean, you would be just as broken.
So the year dragged on, saving the world and all that shit. All you could think about was Sam dying in your arms and Dean’s impending doom. Each night the nightmares haunted you, and Sam’s warm body comforted you, but it was still all too much.
You were going to lose both your boys.