Everyone’s already talking about this and I’ve gotta say I too am clinging onto hope for the finale will. But there’s another thing that made this EP (15x19) feel out of place. It’s how blatantly it went against Jack’s character development from just last episode.
In 15x18 Cas asks Jack how he’s holding up after the celestial boom boom plan went belly up. Jack responds with how lost and useless he feels now. That he was ready to die for the world and he wanted to, so now he’s left feeling out of place. B U T Cas says “We don’t care about you because you’re useful, or you fit into some grand design. We care about you because you’re you.”
And to me that was a big moment! Right? That in this story full of heroes and martyrs, Cas tells Jack, and thus the audience, that just living as you are is reason enough to deserve love and home.
Thennn the new episode comes out and just? Uno reverses that? Oop our Jack’s gone now because he gave up the things that made him, HIM to became super powerful and save the world. But don’t worry because he’s the air and light and dust in the bunker so it’s basically like he’s there too Sweet. . I’m glad Jack felt happy with it but I feel it could’ve been delivered in a much better way, what do you guys reckon?
Summary: Dean and reader are at odds with each other as they attempt to rescue Sam...
Part 1
Pairing: Dean x reader
Word Count: 3,000ish
Warnings: lots of language
A/N: Flangst, definite flangst incoming...
“How am I supposed to get Sam out of Hell, Dean? What can I do that you can’t or Sammy couldn’t?” you asked. You pulled away from Dean, his hand falling from your grasp. No, he wasn’t getting off that easy after ignoring you for months. Not to mention hiding the fact what the two of you were.
“I don’t know. It’s all I’ve got at the moment,” he said slowly and low.
“Don’t use that tone with me,” you said. Dean laughed and crossed his arms. “I’m fucking serious.”
“Why are we still fighting! We should be good now!” he said. You took your turn to laugh, shaking your head and heading into the archives of the library. “I was talking to you!”
“Were you now? I forgot what that was like Dean. I feel so honored,” you said, walking down an aisle, sensing Dean on your tail. You barely made it to the second set of shelves before his hand was on your shoulder, spinning you around roughly.
“What is your problem?” he asked, staring down as you shrugged him off.
“I will do everything in my power to get Sam out, Dean. I will. But you...you are not my friend. You aren’t my boyfriend, you aren’t my soulmate. Until we figure this thing out all I am is your roommate. Understand?” you said, turning away fast and getting out of there before he could argue.
“No, I don’t fucking understand,” he said. “What-”
“Unless you want to talk about how to find Sam, I’d keep your mouth shut,” you said.
Dean was quiet but you could hear his heavy exhale as you made your way to the end of the row. You pulled the two large books you knew to start with down and tucked them under your arm, all while Dean watched.
“What,” you said brushing past him and into the library, plopping the books down. You grabbed a notebook and took a seat, Dean shoving one of the books to the other side and sitting across from you.
You worked in silence for a few minutes. The minutes soon turned to an hour, an hour to two, two to all day. No one said a word. Dean picked up a pizza when you took a break, breathing a sigh of relief when you were alone. It didn’t last as you took a shower and changed into something comfortable, your desire to work fading in favor of food and bed.
You were jotting down notes on where to look the next day when Dean sat the box down, silently putting a drink down in front of you. You ate together but he worked the whole time, never once looking up at you. When your eyes felt like they couldn’t stay open another second you went to your room, wishing it wasn’t right next to his. It was only a few minutes later when you saw his shadow pass under the door and his shut nearby.
Why couldn’t he understand why you were upset? The destined to be whatever crap...you knew Dean. It would have scared the shit out of him to find that out. The man barely let you be his best friend. To have someone to love like that? You weren’t sure he could ever let himself believe he was allowed that. That stuff...you could forgive him for that when it came down to it.
But the rest of it, no way in Hell were you ready for that. Everything about the two of you broke the second he brought home Jenny. He didn’t want you around, he didn’t talk to you, he didn’t want you there at all. Apparently he was a better actor than you thought because he did want you, more than you knew.
Or he was lying. Maybe he just wanted Sam back and had to keep you around so he lied to get your help. He loved Sam so much you were almost positive there would never be enough room in that heart of his for you too. No, Dean wasn’t that cruel. He was messed up beyond belief but not cruel. Why’d he have to push so damn much?
“Y/N,” said Dean, knocking on your door. “I know you don’t want me to talk but I...I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. For Jenny, for lying, for acting like a stranger...I’m barely holding on here. It’s not fair. I know that. I don’t expect you to forgive me because frankly I don’t forgive myself. I don’t deserve all that you’ve done for me. I don’t deserve you to be my family. But I really fucking need you. Just...don’t run off in the middle of the night on me. I’ll give up if you go too,” he said, his shadow moving away.
You waited until you heard his door close again to let out the breath you’d been holding. You put your head in your hands and took a deep breath, trying to keep a level head.
“Why’d I have to fucking love you of all people, Dean?”
You woke up late the next day, still exhausted after staring at the old texts the day before. Maybe you’d run out and grab breakfast to wake you up. You figured you’d run through a drive through, maybe ask Dean if he wanted anything. If the way last night went, it hurt more to hate him than forgive. Not full forgiveness quite yet but you weren’t going to tell him he wasn’t allowed to speak in his own home.
“Dean?” you called out when you heard him shuffling in the kitchen. “Do you want some...” you said, popping your head in to find him flipping over a pancake. He stared at you, eyes a touch wider than normal at your change in demeanor. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. “You can talk to me. I won’t bite your head off again.”
“Sure about that?” he asked, flipping another pancake, keeping eye contact the whole time.
“You made pancakes,” you said, taking a seat at the counter. Dean slid over the three or so good ones on a plate, placing the other burnt ones to the side for himself.
“So,” he said, turning off the griddle and taking a step back with his plate, choosing to eat while standing.
“You make pancakes when you try to apologize to me,” you said. Dean shrugged.
“I’ve made pancakes like twice,” he said, taking a sudden interest in his food.
“You’ve needed to apologize to me twice,” you said.
“Well...hopefully third time’s the charm,” he said. You ate in silence again but it wasn’t as tense as the day before. “Your uh, your notes seemed promising.”
“It’s a dead end,” you said. Dean blinked curiously while you shook your head. “I had trouble sleeping and worked for an hour. It didn’t pan out.”
“I guess we keep looking then,” he said, curling his lips up in a very small, very brief smile.
“What? Do I have syrup all over my face?” you asked, wiping away with a napkin.
“No. You’re perfect,” he said, turning his back to you and cleaning off his plate. “I’ll uh, be in the library after you get dressed.”
“The big green one might be a place to start today, if you want,” you said, sliding off your seat. “I'll just be a couple minutes.”
“Take all the time you need sweetheart,” said Dean. You stopped and spun around for a brief moment, looking at each other. He'd never called you that. Only women he was interested in got that pet name. “Sorry. Too fast.”
“Lets work on the friends again thing first and see where it goes from there De,” you said. His lips twitched into a fast smile when he remembered you were watching him, quickly hiding it away. De was still rare to you both, foreign on your tongue. You'd only said it to him maybe three times, always when everything had gone to shit and you were going to buck up and tell him...something. But it always seemed better to keep your mouth shut.
“You got it,” he said, caught in a place between wanting to go fast and slow all at once. You parted ways from him and went to your room to change, coming back to find a cup of coffee at your spot in the library.
Everyday for two months there was always a cup of coffee waiting for you. Slowly you became friends again but it felt different. You weren’t sure if it was because of how you reacted when he lied, for being with Crowley without telling him...because you two were both terrified of the fact you had an actual soulmate. The peace couldn’t last forever, not when you were still holding back.
“That’s it, I’m fucking done,” said Dean one night, sliding the stack of books he’d been working from off the table. The sound made you jump in your seat. Dean didn’t even give you a second glance as he plucked his coat from the back of the chair and started for the garage.
“Dean, where are you going?” you asked, having to jog some to keep up with him. “Dean!”
“Out to get drunk,” said Dean, bounding up the steps, making a fast break for Baby. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Dean, we’re both stressed but-”
“I need a damn drink alright! I need to forget what a shit show my life is,” he said. He wasn’t stopping and you climbed in the passenger seat, hoping to talk him out of hiding himself away in a bottle. “Get the fuck out. I don’t want to be near you.”
“Make me,” you said. Dean floored it and you slammed back against the seat, giving him a glare as he headed for the nearest bar. “For fuck’s sake Winchester, be a man and pull yourself together.”
“Oh why don’t you go screw your demon boyfriend, Y/N,” said Dean. “I’m sick of this pretending shit. You still hate me. I need a break from you for a few days.”
“I told you, I didn’t do anything with Crowley,” you said. “I only ever talked to him or are you in charge of who I can do that with now?”
“I don’t know, am I allowed to speak to you in my own fucking house?” he asked.
“Pull over,” you said, Dean practically slamming on the brakes. “Maybe a few days away will be good for us both.”
“Make it a week,” he said, as you slammed the door shut in his face and he took off.
“Stupid fucking Winchester and his stupid self-deprecating crap and his stupid face and stupid fucking...” you muttered to yourself, walking barefoot the half mile or so back to the bunker.
By the time you were back, your feet hurt and you were shaking from the cold, wet night. You should have been even more angry with him. But he was upset and Dean didn’t know how to ask for help. Not really. If yelling at you helped him get something off his chest, you’d take it. You had to. He was supposed to be your partner and one of you was going to have to be the brave one. If he wouldn’t do it, you would.
You went back to the library, picked up his mess and wrapped up your feet after a long, hot shower. A shower that gave you an idea that Dean would murder you the second he found out. You had to try though.
“He’ll come home drunk and murder you, Y/N, that’s exactly what he’s going to do,” you said, walking around your room, holding your phone in your hands. “He’ll say a million things to talk you out of this. Aah...fuck it.”
“Hello, love,” said the voice on the other end, answering almost immediately. “Long time no chat.”
“Can we...talk...in person,” you said.
“I’m already outside your door,” he said. You hung up and threw on a pair of shoes, walking up the stairs and outside to see Crowley lingering about.
“Boy band reject gone for the night?” asked Crowley with a wink.
“I wanted to talk to you about Sam,” you said.
“Not happening,” he said, turning around.
“Please just hear me out,” you said, grabbing his arm, spinning him back to face you.
“Fine but Moose made a deal. I don’t break deals,” said Crowley. You sighed.
“I know that. But what about negotiating the terms of that deal?” you asked.
“I’m listening,” said Crowley. You swallowed, imagining just how pissed Dean would be.
“Sam comes back. He’s served his time, he’s no longer in debt to you,” you said. “In return...I work for you, on a temporary basis.”
“How long is temporary love,” said Crowley.
“A month,” you said. He burst out laughing and you clenched your fists. “Fine, two months.”
“Two months? Sorry, Sam is more fun to play with than-”
“Sam is not a toy,” you said. You glared up at Crowley, watching his smile fade away.
“I could make you do despicable things if I agree to this you understand,” he said. Good, the hook was already in.
“I will clean up your house, deal with your demon related messes only. No humans, no angels, nothing else. I get a day off each month too,” you said.
“Negotiating your benefits now? You must be serious,” said Crowley.
“Three months final offer. You need your demons in line again Crowley. You know I can help with that,” you said.
“Three months, starting now,” said Crowley, holding out his hand.
“Sam goes free?” you asked. Crowley nodded and snapped his fingers. “He should be in his bed if you’d like to check.”
You sprinted inside, running down the hall towards Sam room. Inside he was sleeping soundly, as if it were any other night. You covered him with his blanket and smiled.
“You boys take care of each other while I’m gone,” you said quietly, Sam murmuring and sighing in his sleep. You took your time to change, writing Dean a note to explain before you went back outside.
“Ready to go love?” he said, holding out a hand.
“As I’ll ever be.”
You were so freaking happy to have your first day off and get home to see the guys. You hoped Sam was doing okay and that Dean hadn’t drunk himself to death. You were practically giggling when you stepped into the bunker, spotting Sam sitting at the library.
“Y/N?” he asked, his eyes wide. “You’re back? Or is this just your free day,” he said.
“Just one day but only two more months Sammy,” you said, walking over and feeling him wrap you up in his arms. “I’m doing okay. It’s not that bad.”
“Thank you. I don’t know how to thank you for what you did,” he said.
“It’s alright. You’re family,” you said. “You’ve been...?”
“Better now. First week was rough,” he said. “I’m looking forward to you coming home again.”
“Let’s grab Dean and get some food. I want to be with my two most favorite people today,” you said.
“Hi Y/N,” you heard from behind you, cold and harsh. Dean was calm but his eyes looked like he was about to start spitting fire.
“Listen, I know-”
“Sammy, I’m going out. I’ll be back tomorrow,” said Dean. He grabbed his coat and started heading up the stairs. You followed after, looking over to Sam who only shut his eyes in defeat. “You weren’t invited.”
“Dean, I-”
“How about you don’t come by here anymore,” he said. “I think that’d be best.”
“Dean,” you said. “Dean stop. Dean Winchester, come back and-”
“Later Sammy,” he said with a wave, pushing you back a little and slamming the door shut behind him.
“What the fuck was that!” you said, looking down over the balcony at Sam. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
“He’s mad about the deal. Mad about a lot of other stuff too from what I gather,” said Sam. “You know him, won’t talk about it.”
“It’s not that bad of a deal, Sam. He’s...ugh,” you said, walking back down the stairs. “We didn’t get along for a while when you were gone.”
“I figured. Do you not get along with his girlfriend?” asked Sam.
“What?” you said calmly, keeping your voice steady.
“Blondie. Jenny or something like that. Trust me, I’m not a fan but-”
“He’s back with Jenny?” you asked. Sam nodded. “Fucking asshole!”
“Want to tell me what’s going on there kiddo?” asked Sam. You shook your head. “Were you guys...together?”
“No. Not yet. He...God why’d I have to fucking fall for him. You’re the nice one,” you said. “You wouldn’t go back to the girl you were only with in the first place just to make me jealous of something the man was too damn fucking scared of to say in the first place.”
“He never said it to me but I always kind of knew he wanted you in that way,” said Sam.
“I uh, I need to go Sam. I need to pack up my stuff,” you said. His hand caught your arm and you looked back over your shoulder.
“I want you to stay but...you look like you were the one in Hell for six months, not me. I won’t make you,” he said.
“Thank you,” you said.
“But first I want to go get something to eat with you in case I never see you again,” he said. You laughed sadly at that sentiment.
“You’ll always be my friend Sam. I just can’t be here with him anymore. It hurts too much.”
