Notes: I am describing Michael Mulligan more towards the way the archangel is depicted in art. Adam would not be in the same weight division as Dean, and I couldn’t find a good way to explain otherwise. Either way, I liked giving Michael Adam’s last name. Please enjoy and please like/comment/reblog. As always, my requests are open, and I’m going to need some as this series comes to a close. Bring me your obscure characters and receive a fic in any style (fluff, smut, angst) you like.
Bobby peaked his head out of the room. “Dean, he coming too.”
For a split second, Dean held back. Then he stepped forward, Y/N at his side.
Sam’s face was swollen from the repeated blows. His neck was in a brace. With the pillows wrapped around him, he looked smaller. No mean feat. Cas and Bobby stood to one side of the room, looking between the brothers. Y/N could feel Dean’s grip tighten, so she squeezed back. He blinked and looked down at their hands. He ran his thumb over her knuckles as he put on a smile.
“Heya, Sammy,’ he said softly.
Sam opened his eyes, which were thankfully not swollen shut.
“Hey, Dean. Y/N.” He tried to sit up further in the bed but Dean rushed forward to push him back down.
“You don’t need to move at all.”
Sam grunted in agreement. “How’d the after party go with Raphael?”
“I’m supposed to lose. Mulligan is one of theirs too.”
Bobby groaned. “Michael Mulligan?” He growled as Dean nodded. “I was afraid of that. Raphael’s got the northern canvas so tight I couldn’t get any information about the head of the ring. Style-wise, he’s good. He took out the Prince of Darkness in the south to win semifinals.”
“The finals aren’t for another week,” Sam said. “You’ll have plenty of time to…”
“To what, Sam? I’m supposed to lose.”
Sam looked at Dean with his nose wrinkled in confusion. Then he looked at Y/N, who focused her attention on the floor. “Oh.”
“And if it’s not Y/N, they’re going to come by the hospital for a visit. I can’t win.”
The hospital room swelled with silence as everyone tried to come up with a solution. No matter which way they turned it, an answer did not present itself.
All through the week, Cas left the Winchesters, Y/N, and Bobby at the hospital while he went back to the ring. His former injuries kept him from competing, but he still had his hearing. He talked to boxers from before the reign of Raphael, people who were still allies, but none of them knew any more information about Michael. He knew who he had to talk to, but it wasn’t going to be easy.
Uriel watched Balthazar like a hawk.
His only chance was to find him outside the ring. It was a weekend, and Balthazar wasn’t due to show for another hour, so Cas found a quiet corner and watched the others train. Even with a match that night, the guys were trying to keep loose. A while later, Cas knit his brow in confusion as a visitor came in followed closely by the boss’s satellite himself. Cas guessed the big man was Michael. He was broad shouldered and narrow waisted, strong but hard to hit. His knuckles were thick from breaking repeatedly, something Cas could see on several of the better boxers in the ring. He knew Michael was good, and Cas had never even seen him fight. If Uriel was with him, then Balthazar was without his traditional guard.
He left for Balthazar’s usual back entrance and waited outside. He grinned as the referee quickly rounded the corner and bumped into him.
“Castiel! Um, I’m going to be late for… something. Excuse me.” He tried to shoulder his way past, but Cas blocked his path.
“That something wouldn’t happen to be a meeting with Raphael’s northern progeny, would it?”
Balthazar was taken aback. He started to form an excuse but sighed instead. “What happened to this city, Cas?”
“Men with too much power and not enough chin took hold. What’s Raphael’s play?”
“You know I couldn’t tell you that, even if I did know.” Again, Balthazar tried to step by, and again Cas kept him from taking another step.
“Would you tell me if you knew? We used to be ring brothers.”
“I know that, but Raphael is different. I know I can trust you, but he’s got so many guys scared or in his pocket that I can’t trust my own shadow. If you make me late, I won’t even have that.”
Cas kept him from opening the door, drawing out a frustrated groan. “A hint. A guess. What do you think is going to be the plan?”
Balthazar sighed, kicking himself for not using another door. “I don’t think Dean is going to make it out of this fight. What nobody knows about the Prince of Darkness is that he’s tied up in his own hospital, practically in a coma. Michael fights for himself as much as he does for Raphael. If he knows Dean is public enemy number one, and that he’s going to get paid to make it look good… Dean better hope he’s got life insurance.” Balthazar took the moment of Cas’s shock to make his way inside, leaving Cas with a brain full of dark, swirling thoughts. Then he was off like a shot, only to lose consciousness as something hit him in the back of the head.
It was getting close to when Dean was supposed to show up to the ring, and they still had not heard from Cas. The final match was to be in the center of town, “neutral ground” between the rings. And it was in the middle for ease of fan access, meaning more money.
“Where is he? I told him hanging around the canvas all week wasn’t a good idea.” Dean was leaned against the wall, but Sam was counting down to when he would start pacing.
Y/N saw the look and stood to keep him from starting. “Maybe he’s found something out. You know we could use the information, and good information takes time. If you don’t think he’ll make it back in time…”
“No. If Castiel doesn’t show up, you are going to stay here with Sam.”
“Like hell, I am.” She poked him in the chest, smirking as he raised an eyebrow. “No more polite doormat, remember? And that goes for speaking to you too.”
“The plan is to not let them catch us together.” He took her hand from its position on his chest and held it in his, noting its delicateness. His voice fell, borderline to a breaking point. “I’m not going to let them force you to watch the match from the office. And I don’t trust Uriel not to…” Dean glanced at Sam, who nodded in agreement.
“I’ve convinced one of the nurses to bring in a radio,” Sam said. “You won’t miss a second of the match, and afterwards Bobby is going to sneak in some drink from his prohibition days,” he added with a grin.
Dean looked down at her, his eyes begging her to stay. She shook her head, punching out as much air from his chest as a blow from Cole.
“I am not staying here. Now, Dean Winchester, are you going to let me ride with you, or are you going to call me a cab?”
He sighed and walked over to the phone, dialing the number. “Hello, I would like to call a cab to Southern Indiana State Hospital.” He looked at Y/N one last time as the receiver asked how many passengers.
“Just two.”
Black faded into a bright white before fading once again into black. Castiel continued to blink slowly, bringing the world into focus. He found himself laying under the stars in the back alley. He launched to his feet instantly regretting moving too fast. He steadied himself against the wall while thinking over what Balthazar told him. As soon as he could see straight, he made his way to the street and hailed a cab.
“So, are we undercover, or…?” Jo whispered to Y/N. She took the bag of popcorn from the vendor and passed it to Claire.
“No. Dean didn’t want to leave me alone. He’s so sure the opposition will do anything to get to him, even if we haven’t been seeing each other long.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was enough when coupled with free tickets to the fight.
“Do you think we could continue to get tickets even if he loses? Ouch.” Claire rubbed her shoulder where Jo smacked it. Y/N grinned. The world could be ending and these two would never change.
From the corner of her eye, Y/N spotted a ruffled top of black hair towering over everyone else. “Castiel!” She waved at him till he located her, but took as step back as he stormed over to her.
“Y/N, where’s Dean?” He gripped her arms tight and pulled her to one side of the crowd. “Why are you alone?”
“He’s in his locker room getting ready. And I’m not alone, I’m with my roommates. Castiel, this is Jo and Claire.” She nodded to the girls as they caught up.
“Pleasure to meet you,” he rushed out. “We’ve got to get to Dean.”
“Why, what did you… hey girls?” Y/N turned to Jo and Claire as Cas let go of her. “Go ahead and claim our seats. They’re assigned for the night, but people might try to fight the system.”
“What about… sticking to you?” Claire asked, looking leerily at Castiel, who mirrored her expression.
“I’m with Cas. You had to hear some of that, he’s a friend of Dean’s. And he’s a boxer, so I’ll be well defended.” She laughed when they didn’t budge. “Just go.” Y/N waited till they were halfway to their seats before continuing. “Okay, so what did you hear?’
“Balthazar thinks Dean’s not going to make it out of the fight alive.”
“Balthazar Smith? The referee?”
“Yeah. He’s usually under Uriel’s thumb, but he’s been getting squirrely lately. He doesn’t like how the matches have turned in this last season.”
Y/N hummed in thought. Mostly to herself than to Cas she asked, “would he be squirrely enough to…?”
“No.”
“What?” She brought her attention back up to Cas. “I didn’t even finish my thought.”
“Dean told me about that face. He said you promised him…”
“I did. But he claimed nobody would talk. If Balthazar would talk, maybe he could inspire the rest of the guys too. Do you know which ones would be willing?”
Cas pursed his lips. “I can name several, but a greased palm could take this plan out before it got started.”
“And you? If you could help make sure no other boxers get hurt because of Raphael, would you do it?” Y/N watch his face as it contorted between ‘yes’ and ‘hell no.’ She grinned as he slid into a hesitant ‘yes.’ “Good. Now, where’s a phone?”
The door swung open as Bobby was helping Dean into his colors, John’s fighting coat. Uriel floated in. His smug mug made Dean want to punch it. Then again, it could be not smug and Dean would still want to punch it.
“So, tonight’s the night you retire. I’m sorry to see you go, Winchester.”
“I’m sure you are.” Dean turned to let Bobby check his gloves, counting the seconds till he would leave.
“Aren’t you going to ask what the script is? For old time’s sake.”
Dean groaned through gritted teeth. “What’s the script?”
“I’m going to miss that. And I’m going to miss seeing you bloodied in the ring. The fifth, Winchester. And stick to it this time. We’ve got all your aces.” He left before Dean could give a retort.
Bobby let go of his gloves and snapped in front of Dean’s eyes. “What did you decide?”
“Sam says I should fight to win. Y/N says I should fight to win. But I have this stone in my stomach telling me I should follow the plan one last time and maybe nobody gets hurt.” He paused for a moment, letting his next question float around a bit, hoping Bobby would answer it before he could ask.
Bobby knew that look. He’d seen it when John asked him to help him start the ring. He never could turn down a Winchester.
“Balls. I think you should fight to win too.” He stopped a grinning Dean from saying anything. “But don’t let that make you sloppy. Michael’s a hard hitter. Block your stomach and guard your face. You’re buying the first round tonight if you let him cut open your eye again.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Alright. They should call soon, so show me your shadow punches.”
Y/N slapped the side of the receiver. “Please, it's urgent. I need to speak to the Captain.” Cas looked at her through the door to the phone box. She waved away his worried glance.
“I can’t just let you through ma’am. We have…”
“Oh, just put her through,” an accented voice said in the background. “Line two if you can manage it.” There was a buzz and a click before she heard the voice again. “Captain Crowley of Chicago PD. What can I do for you today miss…?”
“Y/N. You have to stop the match at LaMotta Arena tonight.”
“And why would I do that? Maybe I’ve got some money riding on one of them myself.”
The statement made her stop cold. She pushed through the idea that Uriel had gotten to him. “Because I know you would love a chance for some good publicity. I’ve got songbirds for you, Captain. Good ones. Break up the fight tonight and you’ll have a massive shot at something bigger than you’ve ever caught before.” A little Hollywood, maybe, but it was worth a shot. Y/N waited with baited breath as the line remained silent for a hot minute.
“Do you have a songbird nearby that I can talk to?”
She held the mouthpiece to her shoulder and exhaled. She motioned for Cas to come into the phone box. She handed him the phone and shut the door, taking her turn to stand guard. He came out a few minutes later looking pale and relieved at the same time.
“He’ll do it. He’s rounding up a squad and he’ll be here by the fifth round. He can’t make it any sooner.” Cas chuckled. “Considering the speed of the force in other incidents, this will be like lightning.”
As they walked to the seats, Y/N asked, “how do we get the news to Dean?” They looked up as the doormen gave the five-minute warning.
“We don’t. If this goes south, it will look better on the Uriel side if he doesn’t know. I’ll find a way to signal Bobby.”
Y/N shook her head to silence Jo and Claire’s questions as they found their seats. The buzz was quieting down before the announcer stepped towards the ring. Dean and Michael were still in their tunnels, awaiting the call.
“Remember what I said, keep your face blocked, and jab him before he can jab you.”
“You said that already. Any more times and I’ll hear it in my sleep. Ow.” Dean flinched as Bobby smacked him up the backside of his head.
“Don’t get smart. I was there when you were brought into the world, I don’t want to be here when they take you out. Don’t let it be tonight, Dean.”
They both looked towards the ring, glowing outside the comforting dark of the tunnel. The announcer was calling out the usual pleasantries and requesting that nobody smoked.
“Bobby?”
“Yeah.”
“No matter what happens, thank you for all you’ve done for me and Sam.”
Bobby nodded and patted Dean on the back. Then they walked out into the lights as Dean’s name was called.
“In this corner is Dean ‘Raisin’ Cain’ Winchester! Weighing one hundred and seventy-five pounds and wearing the black shorts with the white stripe. He wears his father’s, John Winchester, colors tonight as he makes his way to the ring.”
Y/N craned her neck to see him, but there were too many people. Even as he made his way under the ropes, people had their arms in the air cheering for them.
“In the other corner is our other semi-finalist for tonight, Michael “Feather Feet” Mulligan. Weighing one hundred seventy-two and a half pounds and wearing the white shorts with black stripes. He wears the red and gold colors on his way to the ring.”
Y/n could see him plain. He was like Cas described to her earlier. He didn’t bounce or shadow-box his way to the ring, just walked. Marched to it. Like this was the battle that he intended to win the war with. Y/N sent up a prayer to anyone who was listening that Dean could hold him off till Captain Crowley and the squad arrived.
Deana and Bobby met Michael and his trainer in the middle of the canvas.
Balthazar swallowed a throat-full of air and asked for a fair fight. He had them bump gloves, then sent them to their corners. The match hadn’t even started yet and he was already sweating. He jumped as the opening bell rang.
Dean bounced out to meet Michael. They jabbed out at each other, testing the range of their opponent. Michael landed the first hit, glancing off the side of Dean’s head. He followed with a quick series of one-twos to Dean’s ribs before Dean could catch him in a clinch. Michael continued to reach up to land blows to his head, which Dean returned till Balthazar separated them with difficulty.
Dean saw his opening as Michael reached in for his face. It glanced off his cheek, allowing Dean to dig in close and land several blows to Michael’s torso before ending with a sweeping uppercut. Michael staggered back. He nodded with a mouth-guard smile.
Y/N sat on the edge of her seat in silence as the crowd around her screamed for their favorite. She kept her eyes on Dean as he circled Michael, bobbing and looking for a way in. She cringed as Michael swooped in to get Dean in a clinch. He thundered hits into Dean’s ribs until Balthazar separated them again.
“Come on Dean,” she whispered. Dean’s reaching blows kept being warded off by Michael’s glove. He stayed just out of reach, circling to Dean’s outside.
The crowd spun behind Michael and Dean watched his gloves for the next blow. Dean reached out as Michael did, giving a glove to the face as he received one. Then he zoomed into Michael’s chest, firing them as fast as he could till the bell rang.
He backed away to meet Bobby.
“That was good. Keep wearing him down. Try to aim lower, more to the stomach.”
Dean nodded as he took his mouth guard back, standing with the bell.
Sam pumped a fist into the air as the commentator relayed the fight.
“The pace is fast as ever, and the fight is even-Steven. Raisin’ Cain trying to drive those hard jabs into the body and face. Mulligan trying to get in murderous body blows of his own.”
He listened to the exchange of hits wired down to him. It sounded like rain on a tin roof, but Sam knew from experience how hard those drops could be. He flinched at a particularly heavy one, only to happily crow as the commentator kicked back in, laughing as a frowning nurse walked by.
“Winchester landing a seriously solid blow to Mulligan, doubling him over. Mulligan retreating to catch his breath. He’s still got that smile, though, enjoying the match. If he turns it one like he did in his last bout, Winchester will have to pick up his step. Otherwise, Winchester’s got this in the bag.”
It was too easy. Dean kept his distance when he could. Michael was encroaching on his space, making himself easy to hit, while at the same time limiting Dean’s ability to pull back for a harder hit. Dean bounced back as Michael round housed a blow into his ear. Dean shook his head through the ringing. He looked over Michael’s shoulder at Bobby to see if the ringing was outside or inside his head. He bit down harder on his guard when Bobby stayed on the floor.
Michael chased Dean to the ropes, cinching him again and hammering blows into Dean’s torso. Dean kept his abs tight, minimalizing the impact. But he took a second to take his breath back as Balthazar pulled Michael away. The bell rang, ending round three.
Bobby continued his flow of advice, but Dean barely heard it. He kept his gaze level as Michael stared at him from his own corner.
As they came out for the next round Dean could feel a shift in the air. Michael twisted his hips, putting his other foot in front. Michael advanced towards Dean quickly, too fast for Dean to retreat. He pulled back then released a hard uppercut into Dean’s chin.
Dean fell back into the ropes. The lights above him swam in circles. He could see a blurred Balthazar racing forward to stop Michael, but the blows to his upper chest hit first. The lights gave way to the canvas rushing up to meet him. He gasped for air, though his lungs burned and sent magma towards his heart. He landed on his gloves and knees, shuddering with the fall. He realized he made a mistake as he looked up, taking Michael’s jab to his face, sending him collapsing onto his shoulder. The world was ringing and glowing and moving like molasses, but Dean fought to climb up the ropes.
Y/N sat down as Dean wobbled to his feet. She could feel three concerned faces to either side of her but kept her gaze on Dean. He stumbled out into the center, pulling up his gloves as Michael attacked him again. She clenched her hands in her lap as Dean sent out weak jabs.
The police will be here soon. The police will be here soon. Please, God, let the police be here soon.
Dean felt Bobby catch him as the bell rang, ending the fourth round. He spat out the guard into Bobby’s hand.
“This guy is incredible,” he slurred, sputtering bloody spittle into the bucket. “It’s gonna be a hell of six more rounds.” He grinned sideways at Bobby, who didn’t fully grin back. He gave Dean back his guard and pulled his gloves over his face. Bobby pushed Dean to his feet as the bell rang. If he wanted to end with any shred of dignity, he would dive this round.
To hell with dignity. Time to clip those Feather Feet.
Dean brought his gloves together to catch Michael’s jabs. He shot out one, landing it to Michael’s crown. Michael rushed in, cinching Dean’s arms to his side and towering over him. He backed off before the ref could intervene, but circled back around. He was able to keep an arm loose as Michael trapped him again. He jabbed at Michael’s upper ribs, but it made his arm shudder to hit him. He was forced back into a corner, his shoulder blades dug into the iron pins. His breath was coming out in pants. Dean could feel Michael grinning at the labored rise and fall of his chest, too punch-happy to see it himself.
Michael let Balthazar push him back and waited for Dean in the middle. He shared a look with Balthazar. Dean wasn’t going to make it out in one piece even if he did fall now, the exchange proved it.
Dean took a breath, then launched himself at Michael. He didn’t keep his hands up as Michael pummeled his face. He didn’t let the blows make him retreat. He didn’t reach to hit back. He just forced his way into the center of the ring and stared Michael down.
“Oh no.” Cas moaned.
“What? What does that mean?” Y/N asked, tugging on his sleeve.
“Please Dean, don’t,” was all she could get out of him.
Dean buckled as Michael rained down hits to his back. He shouldered his way into Michael’s chest, forcing him backwards. He didn’t stop till Michael’s arms flew back as his spine collided with the opposite corner pins. Dean pulled back, then sent in as many punches as he could into Michael’s stomach till Balthazar pushed him away.
Michael roared through his guard and chased after him. He was hunched over, but that didn’t stop him from repeatedly sending his glove into Dean’s face. Dean squared his stance, refusing to give any ground even as his head snapped back with each hit. Michael started using both gloves, the other going into Dean’s chest cavity. His torso rippled with pain till his heart’s thumping turning into one long throb. With a deep breath that burned through him harsher than cheap whiskey, Dean swung. Michael spun and fell.
He turned and walked away a few steps as Balthazar swooped in to count. Dean dropped into the canvas as the bell rang, ending round five and the match. He found Y/N’s face as he fell, missing the swarm of police officers that rushed in through every door and tunnel.
His vision bounced and faded to black as pandemonium erupted around the arena.
Raphael stood by his window drinking his hardest Scotch as someone knocked on his door.
“Enter,” he said, watching the police round up his officials and gamble men. Dean stayed where he fell, unswarmed as people tried to avoid being handcuffed. Michael rolled out of the ring and got caught by a tunnel.
“Raphael, it’s been too long.”
He turned and watched Crowley step into his office. “Evening, Captain. Have I not been paying you enough?”
Crowley shook his head. “Not on your payroll. Not one copper.”
“Shame. Would you like to be?”
He thought for a second, eyeing the liquor stand next to a silent Uriel. “No.” He helped himself to some ice and a drink as two sub-officers walked in. “Cuff ‘em tight, boys. They’re slippery.” His revolver was in Uriel’s chest before he could surge forward.
Y/N fought her way to the ring, sliding under the ropes to get to Dean. Bobby was fighting his through the cops, trying to explain whose trainer he was. Dean’s face was pale despite the beating, and his lips were purple.
“No. Don’t do this to me. Dean Winchester, you wake up right now or… or… or I’m going to slap you.”
She let out a shuddering breath as he continued to do nothing. With a screech, she slapped him across the face, instantly bringing her hands to cover her sob.
“I take it I didn’t win if you’re hitting me,” Dean mumbled with his eyes still closed.
Y/N fell over his chest, crying with an irritated smile. “Don’t you ever fall like that again.”
Dean leaned up with a groan. “Does that mean there’ll be a next time?” His eyes glowed like candle-light through a bottle, mischievous. “You’re not ordering me to stop boxing?”
She sighed. “Hell, no. It’s who you are. Besides, my roommates want free tickets for the rest of their lives. Can’t keep up unless I’m dating a boxer.”
They shared a grin before Y/N helped him over to the edge. They sat and watched the chaos around them. On other sides of the apron, Jo and Claire cheered the police, and Bobby and Castiel laughed.
“I’m sorry you won’t get the belt,” Y/N said. “They’ll probably have a whole ‘nother season to figure this out, won’t they?”
“I don’t need a belt,” Dean said, kissing the top of her head.
“I wouldn’t be so sure that you lost it,” Crowley butted in, fighting with a handcuffed, gagged, and fuming Uriel. “The way that several of the witnesses have been singing, you’ve been fighting for real for the whole season. If that story keeps floating around, you might get the belt by default. Congratulations, Winchester.” He nodded at Dean and winked at Y/N, then disappeared into the crowd.
They laughed and Dean wrapped his arm around Y/N’s shoulder.
“Are we still celebrating with Bobby’s booze and Sam?”
“Yeah. He’s gonna be frosted he missed all this.”
It took an hour or so, but they finally made it to the hospital where Sam was, indeed, incredibly angry that he missed the chaos. They had him calmed down to irritated within a few drinks.
Summary: Set a couple years after the epilogue. Y/N and Dean are married and things are going well. Dean and Sam are opening a second gym and Y/N is a detective and loves her job, but she gets into some hot water with her Sargent.
Word Count: 2491
Warnings: Slight angst, fluff a la moi
Written for: Laura’s @just-another-busy-fangirl 4k Give Me More Challenge. This is her favorite series of mine, so it was her pick for me to add to this. Thank you to @crispychrissy for the read over and also to @mrswhozeewhatsis for the beta!
Catch up here: On The Ropes Master List
“Y/N! It is so good to hear from you, Honey!” Mary answered her phone excitedly.
“Hey Mary,” you greeted your mother-in-law with a small laugh. It made you happy that she was always so excited to hear from you, even though you had just seen her the night before at dinner.
“To what do I owe this surprise?” she asked.
“Well, I was wondering if you could help me with something. I want to plan something nice for Dean’s birthday, but you and I both know I am not the best cook and even with your recipes, I cannot hold a candle to you!” you admitted. Although you tried in the nearly four years you and Dean had been together, it was no secret that you were not at the top of your game in the kitchen.
“I know exactly what my boy likes. You just tell me when and where and we’ll be there!” Mary told you.
It had been three years since John Winchester was released from prison and had shown up in Saint Paul to reunite with his family. Things had not been on John’s side from the beginning, but with some hard work and perseverance, his name had been cleared from a murder charge and he finally had his life back together.
John had managed to repair his relationship with both of his sons, and although not perfect, they were all working very hard to keep the lines of communication open. John was a hard and competent worker and had been with the same construction company for almost three years, now. He regularly joined you for workouts at the gym, sparring with both his sons on occasion. He and Mary were also working on their relationship and, while not quite the couple they used to be before, things looked hopeful and they spent a great deal of time together.
“Do you think we could have it at the restaurant?” you asked Mary. “The house isn’t finished and I don’t know when Dean is going to have the time, now, with the second location opening next month.”
“Of course! Let me look here…” Mary trailed off and you could hear her flipping pages, knowing she was looking at her trusted calendar. “Okay, so Dean’s birthday is Saturday, do you want to have it that day?”
“That is my first day off, by design, in my shift schedule, so that will work perfect!” You and Mary spent the next thirty minutes going over the details and when the call ended, you felt relieved. At least that part of the plan was coming together. Now you just need to place about twenty phone calls and put together a game plan for the rest. You just hoped Dean would love it.
“Sam, hey!” you said as you walked into your brother-in-law’s office the next day. Dean was with a new client and she was early for her workout anyway, so she used the few extra minutes to let Sam in on her plan.
“How is my favorite sister-in-law?” Sam grinned as he stood from his desk, ignoring the growing pile of documents.
“Haha, Sam. I am your only sister-in-law!” you laughed, making Sam smile even wider.
“Yeah, but I still love you!” he laughed. “So what’s up?”
“It’s not really a surprise, but I am planning a party for Dean at Mother Mary’s on his birthday at about six. Think you and Jess can help with the decorations?” You laid out your plan and ten minutes later, walked out of Sam’s office with a smile on your face and a spring in your step.
Technically, you had been planning this for weeks, and everything was coming together.
After a tiring but satisfying workout with John and Dean, you showered before kissing your husband goodbye and heading home. You were meeting with Jess for coffee before your shift started and only had about three hours to get Jess up to speed. Sam had met Jessica through a client and they had hit it off immediately. Jess was a graphic designer for a local marketing company and the two of you had become friends the moment Sam introduced you. They were engaged to be married in just five months, just after Sam’s birthday in May. You and Dean were both in the wedding party and you were excited to stand up for his brother and your future sister-in-law.
“You think this is going to work, Jess?” you asked, suddenly self conscious about your idea.
“I think this is a great idea. Let me put together something for you tonight and you can look it over tomorrow. We can make any changes you want, but I think I know exactly what you are looking for and I am honored that you trust me with this responsibility.” Jess laid a gentle hand on your arm, a sincere and soft smile on her lips. “It’s going to be perfect.”
~*~
“Hey baby, I’m home!” you called out as you walked in the house. You shrugged out of your jacket, hanging it up in the closet. A twelve-hour overnight shift was starting to wear on you after two years, but being a detective in the robbery and homicide division was satisfying and you loved your job. After toeing off your dress shoes, you stepped into the kitchen to see your husband, still in his pajamas, at the stove. The morning news was on the small television in the corner. You paused, leaning up against the frame separating the dining room from the kitchen and admired the view.
Dean’s hair was sticking up in all directions while he stirred something on the stove. He was still the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on and you thanked your lucky stars every single day that he loved you as much as you loved him. You took a few steps toward him, wanting to surprise him, until the smell of breakfast hit your nose and you were overcome with the urge to vomit.
“Babe?” Dean’s concerned voice was muffled through the powder room door as you slumped against the toilet. “Are you okay?” The knob turned and he stepped inside. Seeing you sick was the last thing he probably expected when you came home; you had a iron stomach and never even got hungover when you and he had imbibed a little too much a couple of times a year.
“Uh, yeah. Must be some bug or something. I’m fine, I promise,” you cleared your throat. Dean held out his hand and helped you up off the floor. He looked into your eyes, his own full of worry.
“Y/N, you never get sick,” he murmured.
“Something is going around the precinct. It’ll pass,” you told him as you rinsed your mouth out and splashed water on your face.
“How about some toast, instead of the bacon and eggs I made?” he asked.
“Sounds great. I am going to run up and change, brush my teeth. I’ll be back in a jiffy,” you promised with a tired smile. You laid a reassuring hand on Dean’s cheek, before heading up to your bedroom, dodging a ladder and miscellaneous remodeling crap.
After the toast, you were feeling much better and promised Dean you would get some rest and take it easy. It was seven in the morning and Dean was headed to the gym. You had only a few things you needed to get done, but needed to report an hour earlier than usual for your shift at six that evening. You kissed Dean sweetly on the cheek as he headed out the door. You planned a long nap before getting the tasks completed for the day, so you trudged up the stairs to the second floor and practically collapsed onto the mattress that greeted your tired body.
~*~
“Sarge, just let me close this case!” you tried to argue your point with your commanding officer, but it fell on deaf ears.
“I said no, Winchester, and that’s it! You are assigned to desk duty from this moment on and back to the day shift once this rotation is done. You’re lucky I don’t suspend your ass for this stunt! Now get the hell outta my office!” Sargent Novak slammed a fist down on his desk. You turned on your heel and retreated back to the bullpen.
“I am not going to say I told you so, but…” Detective Redmond leaned one hip against your desk, her arms crossed in front of her.
“I know you want to, but I don’t know how much desk duty I can take,” you sighed loudly, removing your weapon and placing it in your drawer.
“I know, Y/N, but it’s best for now, and it isn’t forever. You just have to bide your time,” Det. Redmond reminded you as she walked back to her own desk. The vibrations of your phone grabbed your attention. You unlocked the screen and saw an email from Jess. You clicked on the link and swore your heart stopped for a moment when you looked at the image on the screen. It was perfect. You quickly thumbed out a reply to Jess, thanking her and asked her to send it to the printer ready to the pick up the morning of Dean’s party.
The last few days leading up to the party went far too quickly for your liking and you felt yourself getting more and more nervous with each passing day. You and Jess were the only ones that knew the surprise and with you back on days, it was harder to hide from Dean. He was already getting suspicious about your behavior and with that stomach bug sticking around a few days longer than expected, you were not feeling quite yourself either.
“Winchester,” you answered your cell the day before the party. “Yes, this is she...oh, yes. Oh, thank you so much. I will stop by this evening and pick it up....Okay, thank you.” The final piece of Dean’s surprise was ready and you could go pick it up after your shift. You didn’t know if it was the nerves about his reaction or your own excitement that was worse. It was pretty much a fifty-fifty split.
~*~
“Dean! We’re gonna be late to meet your family for dinner if we don’t leave right now!” you yelled for probably the third time since he got in the shower. He had taken the weekend off, but had spent a good portion of the day working on renovations the two of you had been doing to the house since the wedding over two years ago. You both loved Dean’s house so much and didn’t want to move, but it needed some work. You had decided to combine two of the upper bedrooms into one large master with an en suite and finish the basement off. The basement was finished, but the upper floor was taking longer than expected and as you looked around you, you sighed for the 37th time that week. It was going to be a long road to get it finished.
“Yeah, yeah, woman! I’m coming!” Dean called as he opened the bathroom door, the towel draped dangerously low on his hips, water clinging to his freckled skin. If there weren’t thirty or so people waiting on you, you would rip off the towel and have your way with him. Instead, you threw socks and boxers at him as he sauntered toward you on the bed.
“Get dressed, Mister!” you laughed as he lunged for you, but you were too quick for him.
“Okay, okay,” Dean grinned as he dropped the towel and pulled on his clothes. You were in the car five minutes later and headed for his mother’s restaurant. He still thought you were just meeting his family for dinner. He was going to be surprised alright.
A recent snowfall had set back your travel time, but you made it to the restaurant with a few minutes to spare. Dean, always the gentleman, held open the back door for you as you walked in, but you slowed down and let him take the lead into the main section of the diner. Sam and Jess had hung silver, blue and red streamers and balloons all over and the place looked festive and ready for a party! “Happy Birthday!” The chorus rang out through the space and Dean’s mouth dropped in shock as he looked around the room.
“You did this?” he looked back at you, a smile splitting your face in two and you nodded. He pulled you into a tight embrace. “Thank you so much. I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you, too, Dean. Happy birthday, Baby,” you whispered in his ear.
You and Dean greeted everyone that had attended the party, but soon, Mary was pushing people to sit and eat. She really had outdone herself and prepared all of Dean’s favorite breakfast foods. She had pancakes, waffles, bacon, sausage, and ham, along with two different kinds of scrambled eggs. A beautiful bowl of fruit rounded out the spread and everyone was stuffed by the time they had finished.
“I would like to thank each and every one of you for giving up your Saturday night to attend a lame birthday party for Dean,” you addressed the guests. “Each of you are special to Dean, and to me, and we wanted you here to help us celebrate Dean’s thirty-five years.
“Dean, when I met you four years ago, you changed my life forever and I will never be able to find the words to properly express my love for you,” you turned to your husband as tears welled in your eyes. With hands that refused to stop shaking, you handed him a box wrapped in silver and red paper. “Happy birthday, Dean.”
“Thank you, Baby,” Dean took the box and set it aside in favor of wrapping you in his arms. As you pulled away, you urged him to open the gift.
You saw the moment of confusion pass over his face as he took in the contents of the box. Shouting started as Jess stood at the back of the room, a sign in her hands, held above her head like the ring girls, only fully clothed. You and Dean were the only ones that had a clear view of her. Dean looked back and forth between the sign and the gift in his lap. The look of confusion turned to one of surprise and awe as his eyes flicked to meet yours. He raised his eyebrows in a silent question and you nodded your affirmation.
He jumped up and wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. “Whoo!” He released you and held his arms out and pointed at the sign. “Jess, come up here!”
Dean shared the sign and held up the gift you had given him for everyone to see. “I’m gonna be a dad!”
Au idea: Boxer Dean has been on my mind and I think it would look badass as just a sketch or full illustration and I love you, ok, stay cool
I realllly loved this idea, i’m probably going to come back to this and color it and put it in the Dean artbook i’m thinking about doing. Plus– im like– A MASSIVE DARK ANGEL FAN and Jensen fighting is some of the hottest shit honestly. i need to bulk him up in this sketch, but i hope you’re okay with this :)
boxer!dean wrapping up his knuckles in the locker room before the big fight
he's a bit nervous, plus his boyfriend's out there and it's cas' first time watching dean at a fight and he swore he doesn't care if dean wins or not because he's fantastic anyway but dean kinda wants to bring home the big trophy home for him anyway
dean going out there and beating the other guy to a pulp, adrenaline rushing through his veins and he doesnt calm down until the announcer crowns him as the winner, dragging out the "e" in his name as he yells it over the speaker
his support group cheering when he gets out of the octagon wearing the big golden belt around his waist and he sees cas in the front, yelling his name through his cupped hands. dean just winks at him, crooks his finger and turns to head back to the locker room and once he's through the door he hears cas' footsteps catch up with him as cas burst through the door right after with a huge grin on his face
"i'm so proud of you," he mutters and dean smiles and leans down to kiss him but cas is panting into his mouth, still pumped from cheering dean on and fuck, that just goes straight to dean's cock so he mutters some stupid thing about "not being worn down enough yet" into cas' ear and he hoists cas up, letting him settle his thighs around dean's waist and dean carries him into the locker room for some victory, up against the locker, sweaty and gross sex
