This fic is for @iwantthedean‘s SoCo Summer Challenge! I had prompts #5 and #177 which will both be bolded within the fic.
Song Inspiration: Both prompts are lyrics from the songs “Plucked” and “I Won’t Make You” by Something Corporate.
Summary: Sam and Dean receive a phone call.
Word Count: 1,200-ish
Warnings: Angst, torture (literally not graphic at all though, it’s kind of up to your imagination - you’ll see), multiple implied deaths
A/N: Sooo I’m torn on this one. It made so much sense and played out perfectly in my head but putting it down in words proved more difficult... Like, part of me really loves it but part of me is also like mehhh. I keep flip-flopping every time I reread it sooooo let me know what you guys think!
“Is that him again?”
Without looking up from the book in front of him Dean reached over, picking up his phone and flashing the screen at Sam. It was the third time he’d called, and, just like the first two, Dean had no intention of answering.
“Just answer it already,” Sam groaned, annoyed with the constant ringing over the past fifteen minutes. But much like the phone, Dean ignored him, setting the device back on the table and continuing to read.
A few more moments passed before Dean noticed a hand dart across the table. He wasn’t quick enough, however, and before he could reach him Sam had the phone on speaker. Holding it out of Dean’s reach where he lay sprawled across the table, glaring up at his younger brother.
“What do you want, Crowley?”
“Ah, Moose. Playing secretary for your brother, are we?”
“Answer the question Crowley or we’re hanging up,” Dean snapped, sliding back to sit in his chair.
“Now, now, don’t get your acorns in a twist. But if you must know, I would like to propose a business deal. A... trade if you would.”
Dean could practically see the smug look on Crowley’s face, but he wasn’t about to play his stupid games. They were busy. They had a case to work, and they had already given Crowley an answer weeks ago.
“Not interested.”
“But you see, I’ve got something you might need.”
“I highly d-”
A blood-curdling scream ripped through the air, effectively cutting Dean off and making his blood run cold. He was out of his chair in an instant, closing the distance between his brother and snatching the phone out of his hand. He stayed close, keeping the phone on speaker but needing to feel it in his hand, needing to feel some sense of control over a situation that was quickly getting away from him.
Sam was stunned. His face pale as he starred up at his brother. He was trying his best to hide the panic he felt but Dean could see it in his eyes. Hell, he felt it too, but the rage that surged through him the moment her voice burst through the speaker was keeping those feelings at bay.
They listened in silence as the screams died down, muffled sobs taking their place before Crowley’s voice once again broke through.
“Still not interested?”
Finally, Sam found the strength to stand, stepping to his brother’s side and staring down at the phone. “Why’re you doing this, Crowley? She’s not even a part of this!”
“Believe me, it’s nothing personal, boys.”
“Listen here you son of a b-” Dean cut himself off when he heard your muffled voice coming through the speaker. It sounded hoarse and broken but it was still you. Although, no sooner had you spoken did your voice once again turn into agonized screams. But this time, Dean could also hear you calling out for him. A sound that both broke him yet heightened his rage, and instead of taking it in silence he let his voice be heard. “Enough! Crowley! CROWLEY!”
The screams faded soon after, followed by a sound Dean couldn’t quite make out before Crowley came back on the line.
“Apologies, boys. Nicholas got a bit carried away.”
The brothers shared a look. Were they supposed to know who that was? Maybe Crowley had taken someone else, but the name didn’t sound familiar.
“Nicholas?”
“My intern, or at least... was my intern. Tom will be taking over his duties from now on. Tom!”
Dean didn’t bother to dwell much on the information. Most of Crowley’s antics never made sense to him, and right now Y/N was the only thing he cared about, not whatever sorry demon Crowley was training to be his bitch.
“Just let her go, Crowley,” Dean growled, determined to keep the conversation on track. The sooner he could get her out of there the better.
“Do you think I enjoy this? I like the little wolf, I do, but business is business. You have something I want, and now so do I. But first...”
“Dean?” Your voice was quiet, almost as if you didn't believe it was going to be him on the other end yet clear enough that Dean knew Crowley had given you the phone.
“We’re going to get you out of there, Y/N/N. I promise.”
As soon as you heard his voice you broke, and each sob that filled the phone chipped away at his composure.
“Dean, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”
Dean’s grip on the phone tightened. He wanted nothing more than to have you in his arms and take on everything that was happening to you. If he closed his eyes it almost felt like he could, like you were right in front of him, like he could reach out and hold you. But you were who the hell knows where, and he was at the bunker. The safest place in the world. Where you would have been if he hadn’t made you leave. Where you should have been.
“Hey, hey, what’ve you got to be sorry for? Crowley’s the one being a dick.”
It took you a moment to respond, but when you finally did Dean wished you hadn’t. But yet, it didn't surprise him.
“Don’t give it to him, Dean.”
“Annnd that’s enough of that. Tom.”
Dean frowned as Crowley’s voice once again dominated the phone and your protests grew muffled until they were once again taken over by screams, and just as before you cried out to him. But this time Dean understood what you were begging him to do. You were begging him to let you go.
“Dean! DEAN! DON’T! PLEASE!”
Your voice grew quiet and Dean guessed that Crowley had distanced himself from you, but the brothers could still here the sounds of your torture somewhere in the background.
“So boys, do we have ourselves a deal?”
They shared a look, and in that moment both of them knew that they couldn't just leave you there. They knew Crowley would never kill you, but he would have no trouble making his demons torture you for the rest of your life if they refused to make the deal. He might have liked you, but he was still the King of Hell. And that was something neither one of them could live with.
“Name a time and place. We’ll be there”
“Screw that,” Dean growled. “We're doing this tonight, and Crowley? Word of advice. Let someone else be the messenger. Because the next time I see you, I will kill you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Winchester. Paul’s Diner. One hour. I’ll make su... what in the bloody hell? What have you done?!”
The sudden change in Crowley’s demeanor set off alarm bells in his head and Dean looked to Sam to see him already sending him a questing gaze. Whatever just happened, he didn't like it.
“Crowley.”
Not surprisingly, he ignored them, and Dean listened intently for some hint of what was going on. But he heard nothing. Only the sounds of the two demons arguing.
“I don’t- She moved and I wasn’t-”
“She moved? That’s your grande excuse?!”
“It was like she wanted it to happen, I couldn’t-”
Tom was cut off as he began choking and soon a low thud echoed through the speaker, replaced by a deafening silence. Dean couldn’t hear anything. No one was moving. No one was speaking. No one was breathing.
He shared a look with Sam and could tell that that exact thought was running through his head as well.
Dean ran his free hand roughly through his hair, while his grip on the phone grew impossibly tighter. “Y/N/N! Crowley, put her on the phone now. Crowley!”
It took the demon a moment to respond, but when he did, he sounded genuinely pained.
“I’m... I’m sorry, boys. The deal is off.”
They let his words hang in the air before Dean started to really panic.
“What? No. Crowley. Crowley! Damn it, Crowley, let me talk to her! Y/N!”
He just need to hear her. A breath. A groan. A cry. Hell, even though it killed him he would take hearing her scream his name just one more time if it meant knowing whether or not she was okay. He didn’t care how selfish it was. He had to know. But nothing came, and soon enough he heard the call end.
Once Crowley’s name disappeared from his screen he slowly looked up. Panic. Hurt. Confusion. Disbelief. All of it crashing down on him as he tried to make sense of those last few moments. His world was spinning, and as he looked up at Sam, as he saw the tears in his younger brother’s eyes, he knew.
Summary: While trying to research the place where Mary and Lucifer are stuck, you come across something super interesting, you decided to call on Cas to get some clarification.
Warnings: Sort of spoiler-ish for season 12, but not really, canon-divergent, nothing but fluff
A/N: This is my fantasy, a post season 12 world where Cas is still alive. So I am writing a fluffy fic to try and scrub my brain of the horrible way so many awesome characters got shafted at the end of this season.
You were flipping through a stack of books, your fingers cramping from the repetitive motion of pushing page after page when you came across the picture. Suddenly, the hours you had spent researching the alternate dimension filled with feuding angels and humans and coming up empty seemed worth it. At first, the image caused a double take but as you studied it closer you became certain of its content. It was like your birthday had come early and you did your best to squash down the laughter that was building in your chest. You needed confirmation.
Squinting your eyes shut as tight as possible you summoned all of your concentration and thought about the one person you wanted to see more than anyone one else at the moment.
"Cas, I think I found something, please, I need you," you spoke out loud into the empty room.
There was the faint rustling of what sounded like fluttering wings and then you heard the gravely voice. "Is it something to help us save Mary?”
As he asked about the Winchester’s mother you felt a little spasm of guilt race through you. You knew things were pretty dire at the moment and you probably should have been more focused on the task at hand, but then you relaxed even non-human beings deserved a break and so did you.
Cracking an eye open you took in his appearance. It had your mind racing back to that picture and the true reason you called the Angel there in the first place. Deep down you knew you shouldn't have lied to get him here but you knew he wouldn’t have stopped searching for Lucifer’s spawn unless he thought you had news of how to save Mary, so it was necessary.
“No,” you answered him hesitantly, hoping he wouldn’t just poof off somewhere else, “it’s actually about this,” you slid the book towards where he was standing awkwardly at the edge of the table.
His eyes were bluer than you remembered and as you watched him move his face closer to the page, you wanted to burst into laughter as the widened comically at the picture printed there.
“Where did you find this?”
“It was in one of the books I got out of Bobby’s storage, and what did I find other than a baby picture of the most rebellious angel in his garrison,” you smiled brightly as you added, “so is it you or not?”
“Yes, it appears so.”
You don’t know how you had known it was Cas exactly, you had known he had possessed other human vessels before Mr. Novak but the tiny plump cherub in the printed picture of a much older oil painting had a certain look of human mischief in eyes that were slightly greener than they were here on earth but it was like you had identified the angel immediately. He wasn’t holding a harp like the other angels in the painting, they all seemed to be more like what people typically thought of heavenly beings, instead, he was looking out of the frame with his little head tilted to the side and studying something intently. Maybe it was that, the look of questioning that was on the innocent face that set it apart from the stern and obedient gaze of the other figures.
“So how did this person create a family portrait of angels exactly,” you said as what had actually happened to create the picture came into your mind, you were pretty curious about that.
“It must have been a prophet, they would be the only ones who had any knowledge of this,” he turned up to look at you, the same expression on his face as the one that was commemorated in print in front of the two of you, “how did you know it was me?”
“I just knew,” you shrugged non-committally, you and Cas had always had a special bond, one that at times even made Dean seem a little jealous.
You followed the figure of the man in front of you as he turned away from the book and walked over to the chair that was beside you, as he sat down he focused all that unearthly attention directly on you, you couldn’t help the shiver that raced through you as his hand came to rest on top of yours.
“Hi there Cas,” you murmured uncomfortably, “you doing alright?”
You suddenly had doubts, while you had thought the picture was adorable you were suddenly panicked that maybe the reminder of his time in heaven was bringing back painful memories. The last thing you had wanted to do was drag all of that stuff back to the surface. You were left wondering if maybe you had done more than embarrass him, like reminding him that heaven was essentially a gated community that he had been booted from.
“You are a very special human Y/N,” he studied you closely almost like you were more interesting by far than any picture of him or the other angels he knew, “not many things on this Earth would have been able to recognize me.”
All of a sudden his head rushed toward you and you felt the slightly rough texture of his perpetually chapped lips as the pressed against you own. You had always thought Cas was adorable and loved being around his slightly dorky sense of humor but you had never expected even for a moment that this being would ever try and make a move on you. Still, you couldn’t help but take advantage of the situation, bringing your hand to the back of his neck to help guide his face and increase the depth of the kiss. He groaned as your tongue slipped between his lips and massaged his own, you wondered if maybe this was his first kiss, or at least his first one with something that didn’t want to kill him anyway.
When he finally released your mouth and pulled back his face was flushed and his eyes were half-lidded in obvious satisfaction.
“Wow Cas, that was unexpected,” you giggled as he continued to stare at you.
“I think I would like to do that again,” he said clearly he was as un-human as possible because there was not attempt at trying to play it cool.
You liked it, “Well,” you said, “I was just thinking how much we deserved a break, why don’t you come up to my room?”
You stood and reached out your hand to grab a hold of his and as the two of you started to wander through the bunker intent on nothing more than getting to your room as quickly as possible a figure appeared blocking your path.
“Heya Cas, Y/N, where are you guys going?” Dean had a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Uhh...” your brain raced to try and come up with some excuse for what the two of you were going to do.
“Me and Y/N are going to her room to engage in sensual physical activities,” Cas apparently also didn’t understand not putting on display when you were about to hook up with someone.
“Ok then,” Dean said as he quickly turned and walked in the direction he had just come from.
Finally the damn burst inside of you. Standing beside Cas and having seen the expression on Dean’s face had you laughing hysterically, you braced your hands on your knees as you tried to suck in air as your whole body shook with the force of your laughter.
You were glad you had found the picture, you were actually just glad that you had ever found Cas.
This is a collaborative writing between @ilovedean-spn2 For the @spnbuddywriters Challenge
Part One based on the song Send My Love by Adele
This was all you, none of it me
You put your hands on, on my body and told me
Mmm
You told me you were ready
For the big one, for the big jump
I'd be your last love everlasting you and me
Mmm
That was what you told me
I'm giving you up
I've forgiven it all
You set me free
Send my love to your new lover
Treat her better
We gotta let go of all of our ghosts
We both know we ain't kids no more
Send my love to your new lover
Treat her better
We've gotta let go of all of our ghosts
We both know we ain't kids no more
I was too strong, you were trembling
You couldn't handle the hot heat rising (rising)
Mmm
Baby I'm still rising
I was running, you were walking
You couldn't keep up, you were falling down (down)
Mmm
Mmm there's only one way down
If you're ready, if you're ready
If you're ready, I'm ready
If you're ready, if you're ready
We both know we ain't kids no more
No, we ain't kids no more
If you're ready, if you're ready (send my love to your new lover)
If you're ready, I'm ready (treat her better)
We've gotta let go of all of our ghosts
We both know we ain't kids no more
If you're ready, if you're ready (send my love to your new lover)
If you're ready, I am ready (treat her better)
We've gotta let go of all of our ghosts
We both know we ain't kids no more
Sitting in the quietness of the bunker’s library, I felt uneasy and unnerved. Most people would find the stillness calming and peaceful, and would find it relaxing. I didn’t, it just reminded me of the loneliness that had become my life. I clasped a pen in my hand, staring down at the plain piece of notebook paper. I needed to write it down, the reasons why, I began to searching for the words.
After fifteen minutes of racking my brain for something to write, I started to twirl the pen in my fingers, then tapping it in a steady beat on the table. Trying to create some sort of noise, to break up the haunting silence. Hoping that the movement of my hands, would jumpstart my brain.
My eyes focusing on the stark whiteness of the paper, that would catch all my emotions. I wasn’t exactly sure how to accomplish the task, since I couldn’t think coherently enough to write anything down.
I mean how do you summarize five years, into one page? Did a five year relationship deserve more than one page? I mean I know it definitely rated more than one paragraph. Should I use journalism skills? Use the five Ws maybe? Who? What? When? Why? Where?
Leaning back in my chair, I let memories play back in my mind, every single one of them. The good, the bad, and the ugly. It would be best just to hit the highlights, be straight and to the point. Now wasn't the time to write a novel, I wondered if any of it really mattered. Would he even care enough to read what I wrote.
I knew the minute I met him, he was it for me, that my search was over. For me at least, it was love at first sight. He had a beautiful smile, and kind eyes. It was the first thing I noticed about him. He was everything I was looking for in a man, strong, dependable, a good heart, loving and caring. I knew he was my everlasting love, the one I wanted to be with for the rest of my life.
I kept that fact hidden for the first six months, afraid that it would scare him away, but then I broke down one night. Whispering “I love you, you're my forever.” As I drifted to sleep, he didn't say anything, just held me tighter.
Six months later, he finally admitted he felt the same. He and his brother rescued me from a vampire nest. Nearly losing me, must have triggered him into action. He held me in his arms that night, after Cas healed me. He told me our love was forever, and I'd be his last love.
He talked about marriage, and starting a family soon. Yet four years later, after that whispered promise, my ring finger remained empty, I wasn't getting any younger, neither of us were.
It was time to give it up, forget all the dreams and promises of forever that he made. I was always racing towards the house, with the picket fence, kids, and a dog. He was always at a snail's pace, tripping at the thought of that kind of life. He was never in any hurry to get there.
We seemed to have drifted apart in the last three months. Instead of taking me along with him and Dean on hunts, to help with research, and however else I could help; I was left behind. He swore to me it was for my safety, that he didn’t want me to get hurt. I believed him, and stayed back with out argument.
Dean would just look at me, sympathy with a touch of pity in his eyes. He'd hug he before they left, telling me to stay safe. Promising me, they'd return home safely and as quickly as they could. Over the years, we’d become close, he was like a brother to me.
Sam, he'd kiss me on the forehead, with promises to return as soon as he could. He'd always call me, checking in with me, while he was gone.
Except this time, there was no kiss, and no phone calls from him. My fear and worry that something had happened to him, wearing on my nerves. I tried calling him several times, but the calls went unanswered. Maybe that's what finally broke me.
I guess I should have gotten a clarification of forever and last love from him. Apparently, are definitions differed, his was just under four years. It might have saved me from disappointment and heartache. The promise of marriage and a family happening soon, would now never come.
Wiping away the tears, letting out a ragged breath, I started to write.
Dear Sam,
You said you were ready for it all, marriage, family, yet in the last three months you've pulled away. You promised that I was your forever and last love.
We weren't going anywhere near the future, I had dreamed of, and I had to leave. We weren't getting any younger.
I'm giving you up, I wish you the best. I harbor no bitterness in my heart for how things turned out. When you're ready, if you haven't already, let our memories go.
I hope the way that I loved you will benefit your next relationship. Once you're ready, treat your new lover better.
Sending My Love,
(Y/N)
Folding up the letter, I stuffed it in an envelope, writing Sam on the front. Leaving it on the table, rising from the chair, I grabbed my purse.
Walking up the stairs of the bunker for the last time, I let out a sigh. I was going to miss this, pushing the door open, I let it slam shut behind me.
Climbing into my car, I drove off leaving my broken dreams, and his broken promises behind me. The broken heart I was taking with me, the hurt, and anger all mixing together, I began to realize something. I had to be honest with myself; I blamed him, because of his failure to actually commit. I guess there was a little bitterness there after all.
In the end, I knew I would forgive him, because he was my forever and everlasting love.
This is one of the four entries I’m writing for @buckysmetallicstump’s Disney Challenge! My prompt for this entry was #14: “Listen to me. The human world...it’s a mess.” - Sebastian, The Little Mermaid. Quote will be in bold.
Song Inspiration: “A Thousand Years” by Christina Perri ft. Steve Kazee (Breaking Dawn Soundtrack Version). Here is a Link if you are interested: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EpxJGTN3VUw&index=13&list=PLwUW5QOPdB6E3Jlsd4YDDJK8sIFm-kB0i
Summary: The Winchester’s meet an old friend of Castiel’s.
Word Count: 3900-ish
Pairing: Sam x angel!Reader
Warnings: Language, a smidge of violence, MINOR canon divergences, and first time writing Sam x Reader (cuz that should probably be a warning)
A/N: Part of me feels like I should have done this in five separate drabble posts buuuutttt I didn’t... for reasons unknown even to myself lol. It’s set in Season 9 and is written in five little snapshots of their life. There will be parts that follow the script of actual episodes with a few minor divergences here and there. (Exact episodes: 9x09 9x11 9x13 9x21 and 9x22). Let me know what you think!
You walked towards the wooden establishment, displeased with the sight of various human officials mulling about. This was angel business. They had no idea what they were dealing with and would only get in the way.
Walking past a shiny black vehicle, you stopped in front of a row of motorcycles. Ever since you had lost your wings in the fall you had been cursed to walk the earth. Never before had you envied the human forms of transportation, but you had to admit, taking one of these would make moving around much faster. And if the angels who had ridden them before were indeed dead, taking one for yourself shouldn’t be a problem. You would just have to figure out how they worked first.
“Cass, slow down!”
You turned towards the voices, watching as a man exited the building, quickly followed by another who was dressed almost identically.
“Castiel?”
Both men stopped abruptly, their eyes locking on to you in an instant. The second man was staring at you cautiously, his hand resting above the weapon he had at his hip. The first, however, eyed you curiously, stepping towards you and putting a hand up when the other man tried to follow.
“Y/N?”
You nodded, walking towards him. “I was hoping I would find you one of these days.”
The green-eyed man was at Castiel’s side in an instant. The weapon now in his hand. “Not so fast, sweetheart.”
You stopped, eyeing him curiously. Everyone knew Castiel had spent the past few years running around with the infamous Winchesters, so if you had to take a guess you figured this man must be one of them.
“It’s alright Dean. She’s an old friend.” Castiel assured him, still looking at you.
“No offence Cass, but I don’t think any angel is your friend anymore.” Typical human, so quick to pass judgement.
You stared at the Winchester, unfazed by his words. “My loyalty to Castiel has been unwavering since the day we were created, boy. Can you say the same for yourself?”
The guilty look on his face and the loosening tension in his shoulders was answer enough and you continued. “Castiel may have caused the fall but I do not believe he did so knowingly, as some of our brothers and sisters have been so quick to believe.”
“Dean where did you-“
You looked towards the building’s entrance as the new voice interrupted, finding yourself staring up at an even taller man who was already staring back at you with wide eyes. The other Winchester you presumed. And since the one standing in front of you was Dean, this one was most likely Sam. You had to admit, they looked less caveman like than you had expected, and definitely less lethal. In fact, this one seemed to look more like an infant dog than a deadly hunter.
You found yourself smiling as you greeted him, “Hello Sam.”
He swallowed, opening his mouth to speak but nothing came out. You might have found his strange behavior endearing had his brother not gone back to his aggressive state, now pointing his gun at your chest.
“How the hell do you know him?”
“This is completely unnecessary,” Castiel stated, staring disapprovingly at his friend.
You were staring at the hunter as well, silently daring him to pull the trigger. But before either of you could egg the other on further, Sam was there, putting his hand over Dean’s and pushing the gun down. “Dean, stop!”
Your eyes flickered to his face for a moment, surprised that a human would defend you against his own flesh and blood. “I am no threat to you or your brother, Dean. Are you really that surprised that someone knew the infamous Winchesters by name?”
He wasn’t buying it. “Please. You had no idea who I was, sweetheart.”
“I figured you were a Winchester. I just didn’t know which one until Castiel called you by name. By process of elimination that would make him,” you gestured to the taller of the two, “Sam.”
Dean continued to glare at you as you stared him down. All the while you could feel Sam’s gaze flickering back and forth between you before he spoke up.
“Would someone explain to me what is going on?”
“Apparently she’s an old buddy,” Dean muttered, gesturing to you and reluctantly putting his gun away.
“So you’re an angel?” There was no malice in Sam’s voice, only pure curiosity.
You nodded, “It’s nice to meet you, Sam.” You looked to Dean. “You, not so much.”
Sam burst out laughing, and you looked up at him enjoying the sound. Since being on earth, human laughter had become your favorite sound by far. It was so pure and full of life. You enjoyed that you had been able to put a smile on his face, something telling you that the Winchesters didn’t wear them often.
But Castiel cut the happy moment short, getting back to more serious matters.
“Why are you here, Y/N?”
“The angels have fallen into chaos, Castiel. Our brothers and sisters have started a war for power and have taken to murdering each other to get it. I was close by when I heard of the massacre here. I thought it best if I at least attempted to find some answers. Something has to be done.”
He nodded, “I agree.”
Pleased that he seemed to be on the same page you continued. “I believe others will follow you, Castiel, once they know the truth. That you did not mean for this to happen. That Metatron deceived you.”
“We’ll help too.”
You looked up to Sam, giving him a nod.
“Thank you, Sam. But it will not be easy,” you cautioned.
He didn’t back down, his face only taking on more determination. “It never is, but that hasn’t stopped us yet.”
Castiel started talking then, satisfied that you were all on the same team and began discussing what your next move should be. However, you weren’t paying any attention. You kept your gaze fixed on Sam, trying to figure out what it was about the man that had you so quickly captivated. Maybe you would find in him what you had been searching for since the beginning of your existence.
“Being a human, means settling your debts. Let’s start balancing the books.”
You stared curiously at the man in front of you. He was so willing to help and to endure the pain it would cause, simply because he felt he had some human obligation. It was fascinating to you, and as he sat down in the medical chair you found yourself admiring his bravery.
Although, he did need to stop blaming himself for the things that happened while he was possessed by Gadreel. He hadn’t known, and once he had he’d wasted no time in expelling the traitor. No one blamed him. No one but himself.
You stood back as Castiel injected the needle into Sam’s neck, watching as he grimaced in pain. Grace started filling the needle but you could tell Castiel wasn’t getting what he needed, and when he paused and briefly met your stare you knew you were right. He would have to go deeper, and going deeper was dangerous.
Sam must have noticed the hesitation as well because suddenly his eyes were flitting back and forth between the two of you, questioning Castiel. You watched silently as he informed Sam that in order to get enough grace he would have to push the needle deeper, but that it was dangerous. You expected the hunter to call it quits, not thinking the cause worthy enough to risk his own life. But to your surprise he insisted Castiel go through with it.
The angel shared another look with you before reluctantly plunging the needle further in to Sam’s neck. Almost immediately Sam started shaking with the pain, and before you even realized what you were doing you stepped up to the chair and took his left hand in your own, giving him your silent support. You didn’t bother trying to catch his gaze. You knew he was in too much pain to focus but the tightening grip on your hand told you he knew you were there. Instead, you looked up to Castiel to find him already staring at you inquisitively.
After another few moments he stopped, but when Sam realized they still didn’t have enough grace he ordered him to keep going.
Castiel continued to extract the grace as you held onto Sam’s hand but you soon realized that the hunter was starting to fade.
“Sam?” You squeezed his hand, trying to get him to focus his attention on you but his eyes kept fluttering.
Castiel noticed as well and tried to stop but again Sam told him to carry on. When Castiel ignored him and attempted to pull the needle free, Sam released your hand and grabbed hold of the syringe. Holding it in place and begging him not to stop.
You were probably listening more than Sam as Castiel tried to talk him out of it, explaining how precious a human life was. It amazed you how much empathy Castiel had for them, especially, it seemed, the Winchesters in particular. Although, you had to admit that in the short amount of time you had known them they had continually impressed you with their honor and sense of loyalty.
What amazed you even more were Sam’s next words.
“My life’s not worth anymore than anyone else’s. Not yours, or Dean’s... or Kevin’s...”
For the second time you felt the strange need to comfort the hunter, reaching up and taking his hand back into your own and his gaze was quick to follow.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe your life isn’t worth anymore than anyone else’s. But it isn’t worth any less either.” He looked away, staring up at the ceiling as you continued. “I may not have known you long, Sam Winchester, but you are an honorable man. More so than any other human I have encountered. So I know you feel as if you have to do this, to somehow atone for the mistakes of your past. But I am telling you, for the rest of us, finding Gadreel is not worth losing a life such as yours.”
He blinked a few times, still not looking at you. “You’re right. You haven't known me long. You don’t know the things I’ve done to deserve this.”
You gave his hand a squeeze, causing him to look at you. “I’ve heard stories.”
He stared at you, unable to believe that someone who knew of the things he had done would think he didn’t deserve this, before ultimately turning away and looking back up towards the ceiling. Begging Castiel to continue. You shared a concerned look with your fellow angel but didn’t make any move to stop him as he started again.
So you sat there. Listening to Sam’s yells and offering him the small comfort of holding his. Amazed that a human was willing to go through so much in order to help the angels. Amazed that a human could be so selfless.
“What is the upside of me being alive.”
The sound of Sam’s voice stopped you in your tracks as you walked down the hallway. You knew he had been having problems with his brother. From the talks the two of you had shared, he definitely had plenty of reasons to be angry at his brother. The one that weighed most heavily on his heart being the loss of their friend Kevin. You knew he felt things would have been better off if Dean would have just let him die, but it still hurt to hear him say it out loud.
You had grown quite fond of the youngest Winchester, and he continued to amaze you the longer you knew him. He was surprisingly kind for a man who had lived such a dark life. The same could be said for both brothers. They were resilient and had an honor about them you had yet to see rivaled. The world was better off having them in it. You just wished they could see that.
You knew you should have given them space, but you couldn’t stop yourself from listening in. However, the longer you listened, the more your heart broke for the two hunters. They were always so harsh on themselves, and with each other. You felt sorry for them but you didn’t let it worry you. If there was one thing you knew about the Winchesters, even long before you had met them, it was that they would do anything for their family. They were notorious for putting each other first, above all else, so you were confident the brothers would work it out eventually.
Sam nearly running into you as he rounded the corner pulled you out of your thoughts, and you froze.
“Y/N?” You stared up at him guiltily and could tell he was slightly embarrassed. “So you heard.”
You nodded. “I heard.”
“And?”
“I think that you’re the Winchesters. You’re family. You’ll work it out.”
He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “So quick to put your faith in us.”
Smiling up at him you reached out, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “I have faith in you, Sam.”
That caught his attention and he stared down at you in silence. When it didn’t look like he was going to find the words to speak anytime soon you moved past him, your hand lingering for as long as it could. You made it only a few steps before you paused, turning back to look at him.
“And Sam,” He turned towards you, an unreadable expression on his face, even for you. “For the record, whether or not Dean saved you for himself or for you, I’m glad that he did.”
And with that you turned around and continued your way down the hall. His gaze burning into your back as you went.
You knew you should have stayed with Dean. With the Mark growing stronger he needed someone to watch him, to make sure he kept it under control, and with Castiel off with the other angels you should have taken that responsibility. But when Dean suggested you split up and that Sam search the basement, you had chosen to follow the younger brother. Unable to leave his side knowing that Abaddon was nearby.
Your mistake was only made more obvious as you and Sam burst into one of the upstairs room just as Dean willed the First Blade into his hand and broke free of Abaddon’s hold. Yet still your mind was with the younger Winchester, stepping protectively in front of him the moment you saw her. You watched as Dean effortlessly closed the distance between them and plunged the blade into her stomach, a bright light filling the room. Sam averted his eyes but you watched on in horror as Dean unflinchingly stared her down.
When she fell to the floor it was obvious that she was dead, but that didn’t stop Dean from dropping to his knees and stabbing her over and over again. Sam tried to go to his brother but you held him back, worried that Dean had lost total control and would turn on him if he got to close. So instead, he yelled out to him, begging him to stop.
Your heart broke for him, and you made a silent promise that once order was restored in Heaven you would do everything in your power to help Sam get his brother back. Because this man sitting in front of you was not him.
The ride back to the bunker was tense, and even from the back seat you could tell that Sam was struggling to keep it together. He was losing his brother to the Mark, and Dean refused to see it. Sam even tried to reason with him, asking him to give up the blade but Dean refused. Claiming that it helped keep him calm. But from what you had witnessed at the hotel, it did anything but.
When you got back to the bunker Dean immediately stormed off, leaving you with Sam. You followed him silently as he walked into the library. Watching as he stopped in front of a table and braced his arms against the edge, putting his head down and breathing heavily.
You allowed him a moment to himself before walking over and stopping just a few feet behind him.
“Sam?”
He turned, and you weren’t sure what came over you but as soon as his eyes met yours you closed the distance, wrapping your arms around him. It took him a moment to respond, surprised at the sudden affection, and honestly you were too. But you had watched humans do it before, and figured that a hug would be better than any words you could give him.
Finally, his arms wrapped around you, and when his shoulders began to shake softly you simply pulled him in tighter. Silently letting him know that you were there and that everything would be okay.
Everything was going to hell.
Metatron had planted seeds of doubt in the Angels’ heads, and now you found yourself standing next to Castiel as your brothers and sisters demanded proof that he was still loyal to them. When Hannah gestured towards Dean and ordered Castiel to punish him for his crimes, you knew the possibility of a fight was real, and it had you questioning what side you would be on.
But when Sam stepped up to help Dean when an angel stopped him from leaving, only to be grabbed by one himself, your question was answered. As your angel blade dropped into your hand there was not a doubt in your mind of who you would be defending.
You fixed your glare on Hannah as she continued talking. Out of all the angels you and Castiel had been working with, she was the last one you would have guessed to lead the revolt against you.
“You gave us order, Castiel. And we gave you our trust. Don’t lose it over one man!”
She held out an angel blade, and when Castiel took it from her hand you shared a concerned glance with the brothers before staring up at him questioningly. The tension was palpable as everyone waited to see what Castiel would do, and when he finally said ‘no’ you found yourself breathing out a small sigh of relief.
Hannah, on the other hand, was not so relieved. She glared disappointedly at Castiel, muttering a goodbye before turning to leave. But when she noticed that you had made no move to follow she stopped.
“Y/N?”
You didn’t respond and she quickly continued. Trying her best to reason with you.
“Listen to me. The human world...it’s a mess. Castiel made his choice but that doesn’t mean you have to make the same mistake. This place,” she gestured around you, “is not worth throwing your life away. Please sister, come home with us.”
You considered her words, letting your gaze drift to Sam for a split second before ultimately stepping back and out of her reach. Giving her your silent answer. However, your glance did not go unnoticed and she took a moment to look between you and the hunter. A wave of understanding crossed her face and she peered at you questioningly. “You too?”
When you only stared back she shook her head in defeat, looking between you and Castiel. “Who are these men, that you would both give up everything for?”
“Goodbye Hannah,” Castiel spoke, leaving no room for argument, and with one last disappointed look she turned away, the others following close behind.
“So what now?” You questioned once they were gone, looking to Castiel for answers.
“For now... I think it's best if we return to the bunker and decide on a plan from there.”
The Winchesters voiced their agreement, and you all followed Castiel towards the door. The curious expression on Sam’s face not going unnoticed as you passed.
When you arrived back at the bunker you could feel a fight brewing between the two brothers and excused yourself, hearing the beginnings of their conversation as you made your way down the hall towards the room they had appointed you during your stay. It had been a rather pointless gesture since you did not possess the need for sleep but you had grown to enjoy the room, and it was your go to escape when you needed to give the brothers some space.
The minutes alone ticked by, and you were sitting on the bed reading one of the many books you had taken from the library when a knock sounded at your door. Looking up you saw Sam leaning against the frame, and you set the book down giving him a sympathetic look.
“Don’t let him get to you, Sam. You know it’s just the mark talking. Once we put a stop to Metatron we’ll find a way to save Dean.”
He nodded, looking down at his feet as he toed at a scuff mark on the floor. After a few moments of silence he looked up, changing the subject completely. His new choice in topic coming as no surprise.
“Why did you stay? Heaven is open again, you could have gone home.”
“I like it here.” You said simply, holding his gaze with your own. But he didn’t like your answer, shoving away from the frame and walking over to sit next to you on the edge of the bed.
“I think there’s more to it than that.”
You could have lied to him. Told him that it was really just that simple. But you decided to be honest with him, wanting him to know the truth.
“I’ve been around a long time, Sam.” You started, staring at your hands and examining the lines etched into your skin. Always different from each of your previous vessels. Always unique. “Longer than I would care to admit. And I’ve spent my whole existence trying to understand what the point of this earth was. Why the humans were such a priority. I’ve watched the world change and evolve, I’ve interacted with thousands of beings, yet not one has ever given me reason to believe that there is a shred of worth in humanity.”
You paused, finally looking up to meet his gaze. “Not until you.”
Sam raised his eyebrows, disbelief clear on his face. “Me? Why?”
You laughed, a strange sensation but something you had found yourself doing a lot more around Sam. He truly didn’t see how incredible he was, and in that moment you decided you would spend the rest of his life showing him. “You are a better man than you give yourself credit for, Sam Winchester.”
He let out a breath and looked down, apparently finding some type of amusement in your words. “Well, I hope whatever you think you’ve found was worth the wait.”
“You were.”
Your simple statement caused him to look up, searching your eyes for an answer to some unknown question. “What made you keep looking?”
You smiled, resting your hand on his knee. “I knew I would find you. I just wasn’t sure how long it would take.”
A warm smile took over his face as he grasped your hand within his own, beginning to play with your fingers.
“And I would have waited a thousand more if it meant that I would find you in the end.”
“Even if it means losing heaven?”
You reached out, guiding his gaze back to yours and letting your hand rest against the side of his face and neck. “I’ve been waiting for you since the moment I was created, Sam, and now that I’ve found you I’m not about to let you go. Not even heaven is worth that.”
And it truly wasn’t. There was nothing you had been more sure of.
You didn’t know what all that meant for you and the younger Winchester, or what your future held, but as he leaned forward and attached his lips to yours you knew you had finally found the home you had been searching for all along.
This is one of my four entries for @buckysmetallicstump‘s Disney Quote Challenge. My prompt for this entry was #21 “Put that thing back where it came from or so help me!” - Mike, Monsters Inc. Quote will be in bold.
Song Inspiration for the Series: “This Car” by Cassadee Pope.
Summary: You, Dean, and Baby have made a lot of memories together.
Word Count: 1300-ish
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: None
A/N: This is actually going to be a part of my new “This Car” Series. It’s not so much a continuous series as it is a bunch of one shots set in the same storyline. Parts will jump back in forth in time as I post them but when I organize them into an actual Master List I will be listing them in chronological order. Tags at the bottom.
You eyed the impala from the entryway of the shelter, watching as Dean intently flipped through the pages of some book in the driver’s seat. Apparently, it hadn’t taken him as long as you thought it would to find the information you needed at the library.
You looked down at your new friend to find him happily staring back at you and you couldn’t help but smile, crouching down so you were on his level.
“Well Riley, looks like we are going to be meeting Dean a little sooner than expected. He’s a little scary at first but don’t worry, he’s really just a big teddy bear. Just let me do the talking and we should be fine.”
You leaned forward, kissing the side of his face obnoxiously before standing to your full height and leading him out of the building. Dean was so absorbed in whatever lore he was reading that he didn’t notice you approaching, but you kept your eyes on him just in case. By the time you reached the back door of the impala Dean still had yet to notice you, and you stole another look down at Riley. His excitement was contagious and you once again found yourself smiling as all your nerves slipped away.
You threw the back door open and Dean turned, flashing you a smile from behind the glass when he saw it was only you. In that same moment, as Dean turned left to look at you, Riley jumped into the back seat slipping right under Dean’s radar. But once he spotted the man in the front seat all of his stealth slipped away, and the German Shepard began attacking Dean’s neck with kisses.
“What the hell?!”
“Hi Dean,” you laughed as he whipped around to face the creature attacking him, but this new angle only gave Riley better access to Dean’s face. Riley was barking and whining excitedly now, tail wagging furiously as he showered Dean with kisses. The bewildered hunter trying to push him away all the while. You slid into the back seat, shutting the door and pulling Riley to a seat next to you, petting his head lovingly. “Riley, what did we say about letting me do the talking?”
Riley gave you a few kisses in response and you smiled, turning to Dean who was looking at you like you had gone insane.
“What?”
“What do you mean ‘what?’ There is a dog in my car!”
“I know isn’t he cute!”
Dean looked at you in disbelief. “We sent you in there to get information! Not a dog!”
“Relax, I got the information… and Riley,” you added on cheerfully.
“Take it back right now.”
You continued petting Riley as you glared at Dean, “One, he’s not an it. His name is Riley. And two, not gonna happen.”
“I’m not going to say it again. Put that thing back where it came from or so help me-” Before Dean could finish his thought, the passenger door swung open and Sam slid in to the front seat.
“So I talked to the sheriff and… Oh cool, a dog.” As soon as he noticed Riley his face lit up and he reached back, giving his head a scratch. Riley greeted Sam much the same way as he had Dean. But unlike his brother, Sam merely scrunched up his face and happily let the dog give him a kiss.
Dean looked at his brother in disbelief. “Seriously?”
Sam glanced at his brother, offering him a shrug before turning his attention back to you. “What’s his name?”
You smiled proudly. “Riley.”
Sam smiled, “Hi Riley, I’m Sam.”
Dean rubbed a hand over his face, “Great. Now you’re talking to it too.”
“Riley,” you and Sam corrected in unison, followed by a bark from the pup himself.
“So is he part of the case or…?” Sam questioned, looking up at you as he continued scratching Riley’s ear.
“Nope, I’m keeping him.”
“No, you’re not. I’m serious Y/N, take him back right now or I swear to god…”
“I can’t, Dean!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around Riley and hugging him protectively. “He’s on death row in there! If I take him back, they’re going to put him down if nobody else takes him. He’s only four, Dean, have a heart!”
Dean sighed, glancing between the occupants of his car and groaning when he saw the three pairs of puppy-dog eyes staring back at him.
“If he chews up anything…”
You squealed in excitement, leaning forward and throwing your arms around Dean from behind, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Have I ever told you I loved you?”
Dean rolled his eyes but you didn’t miss the smirk that pulled at his lips, “Yeah, yeah.”
You smiled, pressing one last kiss to his cheek before settling in and letting Dean drive you back to the motel.
The case had proved to be fairly simple, much to Dean’s relief. When he had first realized just how easy it was going to be, he hadn't wasted any time in suggesting Y/N sit it out to spend time with Riley. Surprisingly, she hadn't objected in the slightest and Dean was able to work the case without the constant fear of something happening to her.
It wasn’t that he thought she couldn’t handle herself. He knew she could. But that never seemed to stop him from worrying. He had enough to worry about with Sam hunting beside him, and ever since Y/N had joined them that weight had doubled. It was a weight he was happy to carry, but he couldn’t deny that having a bit of it lifted every now and again was nice.
They had been able to wrap up the case within two days, and now the four of them were back on the road, making the long drive back home. It was late and Sam was already passed out against his window, a look in the rearview told Dean that Y/N was no better off. His eyes drifted from her sleeping figure to the dog sitting in the middle seat next to her, contently staring out the front windshield.
The things he let slide with that girl astounded even him sometimes.
Dean turned his eyes back to the road, driving on in silence for a little while longer. In the quiet he almost forgot he wasn't alone in the car, that is until he heard the quiet exhale of the beast next to him. His eyes flickered to the side for a moment, noticing that Riley now had his chin resting against the back rest, before looking back to the road. Without really thinking about it he reached up, absentmindedly scratching Riley’s head. But, after a few moments, Riley began licking his hand causing Dean to quickly pull away and wipe it off on Sam’s shirt sleeve.
“Okay, that’s enough.”
They drove on in silence for a few more minutes until Dean found himself, once again, looking into the rearview mirror. Not much had changed. Y/N was still fast asleep and Riley was still awake, patiently watching out the front window.
Dean shifted his gaze back to the road, but suddenly he found him self talking. To a dog of all things. Something he would never admit to Sam or Y/N.
“Listen, I know I already told Y/N she could keep you, and it’s not like I can go back on that now, but I’ve got one more condition if you want to stay... On top of you not chewing up my shoes or pissing on my floor, got it?” Dean looked towards Riley to find the dog already curiously staring back. “I need you to look after my girl whenever I’m not around, okay big guy? You think you can do that?”
A sudden slobbery lick to the ear almost made Dean swerve off the road, but he kept control and tilted his head out of the dog’s reach.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Even though he was mildly disgusted, he couldn’t hold back his smile. Maybe having a dog around would turn out to be a good thing after all.
He watched as Riley finally settled down in the back seat, turning in a few small circles before lying down, his head coming to a rest on Y/N’s lap.
This is one of the four entries I’m writing for @buckysmetallicstump‘s Disney Challenge! My prompt for this entry was #19: “Ohana means family, and family means no one gets left behind or forgotten.” -Lilo & Stitch. Quote will be in bold.
Song Inspiration: “BLUE” cover by OXEANZ (originally by Troye Sivan - read the author’s note)
Summary: Sometimes the best lessons are learned from Disney.
Word Count: 2400-ish
Pairing: Castiel x Reader
Warnings: SPN level injuries, language, first time writing Castiel (I feel like that should be a warning)
A/N: I just want to point out that I love love LOVE Troye’s original version. However, I remembered coming across this cover a while back and felt that the tone fit the story better. Plus, it really is a beautiful cover and if you haven't heard it it’s honestly worth checking out. Here is a link to both versions if you’re interested:
From the first moment you found yourself staring into those electric blue eyes you knew you were a goner, and when you learned that he was an angel it had surprisingly been, well... unsurprising. The commanding power within his eyes and the sheer depth of their color was to beautiful for any human to possess. Sure, his body was technically only a vessel, but you were convinced that everything about that vessel had begun to shine brighter from the moment it was touched by the angel. Besides, the vessel was empty now. Castiel was completely and utterly himself, and you were completely and utterly in love with him.
Of course, you would never tell him that. He was an angel. You were a human. Thinking you had any kind of chance with him was a disillusion you didn't bother to burden yourself with. You had accepted that a long time ago, happy to call the angel your best friend instead.
And he really was. You might have known Sam and Dean the longest, having spent a large chunk of your childhood being babysat by Dean when your parents were off on hunts, but with Cass it felt like there had never been a day you spent not knowing him. You had been able to open up to him about things you thought you’d never share with anyone, and it was easy. He listened, without judgement, and when he could he offered advice. But more often that not he realized that all you really needed was a shoulder to lean on. You had never been more yourself with anyone, and there were moments when you met his gaze that you realized he truly saw you.
Currently, you were curled up next to him in your room at the bunker watching Lilo & Stitch. That was one of the many things you loved about Castiel. He was always happy to watch endless amounts of Disney movies with you. Whenever you were lucky enough to get Sam and Dean to watch one it wasn't without a series of complaints. But Cass never complained. Not once. He even seemed to enjoy them most of the time, and you for sure as hell enjoyed the time you got to spend with him.
All to soon the end credits began to role and you snuggled further into Cass’ side, letting them play out. “So Cass, what’d ya think?”
“I think this one has been my favorite.”
Stifling a yawn, you tilted your head up to see him staring intently at the screen, watching the credits. You had to admit, as much as you loved your sleep, never getting tired was an ability you envied him for. Late night talks with the angel were your favorite, but more often than you would like they were cut short by your annoying need for sleep. And tonight was beginning to feel like one of those nights.
“Really?”
He nodded, “I rather enjoyed the little blue creature. He is... relatable.”
Maybe if you hadn’t been so tired you would have questioned his choice of word further, questioned him on what an angel and Stitch could possibly have in common. But you were already half asleep, and although you heard him, you weren’t actually registering what he was saying. Instead, you sleepily responded with your own thoughts on the little blue alien.
“Yeah, Stitch is pretty cute.”
He took a moment to respond, and when he finally did it came out as more of a statement than a question. “You’re tired.”
“Mhmm.”
Cass’ chest rumbled with a faint chuckle, one you barely heard, and when his hand lightly ghosted through your hair you knew you were fighting a losing battle with consciousness.
“Get some sleep, Y/N. I’ll watch over you.”
Two nights. It had been two nights since you’d sat curled up next to Cass watching Lilo & Stitch, and, ironically, this night was shaping up to end much the same way. With you passed out. But this time waking up wasn’t a guarantee.
It took everything you had to keep moving and every ounce of concentration you had to keep your gaze focused. But the backs of Sam and Dean kept blurring out of focus and you couldn’t help but notice that you were falling behind. Hell, if you didn’t know any better you would have guessed your feet had been replaced with blocks of lead. It was getting harder and harder to lift them.
But Dean was already shouldering the weight of a wounded Sam, so you stayed silent and kept moving. Keeping the plaid blur centered in your vision. That is, until that plaid blur suddenly flew out of your line of sight and you collided with the cement floor a moment later.
You must have made some sort of sound because suddenly Dean was calling out to you.
“Y/N!”
Coughing, you forced yourself up onto your hands and knees waiting until the blood speckled ground came into focus before lifting your head and shakily rising to your feet.
“I’m fine! Go back to Sam!”
From over Dean’s approaching shoulders you could see Sam leaning half slumped over against the side of the dimly-lit hallway, looking back at you with an expression that was half-grimace half-concern. Behind him, a trail of blood was slowly beginning to trickle down.
Further down the hall, you could make out Castiel’s figure hurriedly walking back.
“You’re not fine!” As Dean stepped within reach you attempted to shove him back towards his brother, but instead you only ended up sending yourself back to the ground. Landing heavily on your ass. “Jesus, Y/N, what the hell happened?”
“Why are you stopping? They way ahead is clear.”
Dean ignored Cass, crouching down next to you and placing a steadying hand on your shoulder as you lifted your own hand to your head to try and steady the spinning. You didn’t think anything of the blood covering your palm as you tried to blink away the black dots attempting to cloud your vision, but Dean was clearly more alarmed than you were. He lifted your elbow to get a better look at your side, a whispered curse finding its way past his lips followed by Cass’ concerned voice.
“Y/N? What’s going on?”
Dean ignored him again, inspecting your side. One of the demons had plunged his knife hilt deep into your side before you had the chance to off him. But instead of telling your friends, you had chosen to hide it. Dean had had enough to handle carrying Sam, and you needed Cas, who was the least injured out of you group, to make sure the way out was clear.
“Damn it, Y/N, you said you were good! This is the furthest fucking thing from ‘good!’”
You mumbled out an ‘I’m sorry’ as your head suddenly became to heavy to keep up and you slumped forward slightly. Dean caught you, guiding your head back up and trying to catch your gaze with his own.
“Hey, look at me. Y/N! Damn it!” He yelled out in frustration, looking up at the concerned angel hovering over his shoulder. “Do something!”
“I cannot help Y/N for the same reasons I cannot help Sam. The sigils they put up are blocking me. We need to get out of this place before I can help either of them.”
Dean nodded. “Okay, I need you to take her so I can grab Sammy and-”
“No,” you coughed out, shakily wiping at the fresh blood that covered your lips.
Cass looked down at you, looking more alarmed than you had ever seen him. “What do you mean ‘no?’” His gaze flickered over to Dean. “What does she mean ‘no?’”
“I mean, you need to go.”
“What? No!” Sam winced from his place against the wall, and Dean was back at his side in an instant, steadying him.
“Nobody knows the way out, Sam! Cass is the only one whole enough to find it and I’ll only slow him down if he has to do it with me clinging to his side!”
“Then the three of us will just have to stay here and wait for him to come back once he figures it out!” Dean yelled.
“Dean,” you let your head rest against the wall, shutting your eyes and letting the tears fall freely. “We don’t have time. The rest of them will be back any minute and you need to be gone before they figure out we’re gone.”
“Screw that. We’re not leaving you here to die.”
You opened your eyes, forcing yourself to meet Dean’s gaze. “And I won’t let you stay here and die for me.”
“Y/N-”
Cass raised his hand, cutting Dean off. You watched as your blue-eyed angel stepped forward and crouched down beside you. He stared at you for a moment, waiting until you were fully concentrated on him before uttering one simple word.
“Ohana.”
“What?!” Dean blanched, sharing the same look of confusion and disbelief as his brother. The word meant nothing to them, but it definitely struck a chord with you. “This isn’t the time for nonsense, Cas! Just throw her over your shoulder and lets get the hell out of here!”
Cass ignored him, continuing to hold you gaze. “Ohana means family, and family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.”
You held his stare for a moment longer before shakily nodding. Leave it to the angel to find a real life moment to quote Disney.
Cass wasted no time in lifting you up in to his arms, and you let your head come to a rest against his shoulder. But instead of letting your eyes fall shut like every fiber of your being wanted you to, you kept your gaze locked on Cass. Looking up at him, and trying to memorize every feature.
“What?” Dean stopped himself, clearly confused by what had just transpired between you and the angel but realizing that now was not the time to ask question. “You know what, I don’t even care. Let’s go.” He maneuvered Sam’s weight back onto his shoulder before turning and following Castiel down the hall.
“Cass you good?”
“I will be better once the two of you are healed.”
Cass looked down at you then, a concerned yet determined look on his face, but all you could focus on was the blue of his eyes. They were uncharacteristically watery and you swore that you could see yourself reflecting back to you as you continued looking up at him. But his face went out of focus before you could be sure.
In spite of everything, you smiled. His face might have been out of focus but you could still make out the blue of his eyes, and if that was to be the last thing you would ever see, you were okay with that. It provided you with a sense of calm as you let your own eyes fall shut, not wanting him to be the first to look away and take that image away from you.
And when everything finally did fade out, blue was the last thing you saw.
“Y/N?”
Your eyes fluttered open and to your surprise you were confronted by your favorite blue. Smiling, you sat up. Lifting your hands to cup the sides of the angel’s face.
“You’re here.”
“Of course I’m here. Where else would I have gone?”
“I just figured it would be against some type of angel protocol for you to visit me.”
His brow furrowed as he stared at you in silence for a brief moment.
“You are not dead, Y/N.”
Now it was your turn to be confused. Frowning, you let your hand drop, taking in your surroundings for the first time. You were in your room at the bunker and Cass was sitting in a chair next to your bed.
Almost on its own accord your hand rose up to touch your own face and you slowly looked back to the angel.
“I’m alive?”
A small grin broke out on the angel’s face as he straightened in the chair.
“Yes.”
“And Sam is-”
“Sam and Dean are both fine. Dean is making dinner and Sam is already looking for another case. Although, I do not understand why he is so eager to find one after yesterday.”
You nodded slowly, taking in all the information. “So... we’re all fine...”
“Everyone is fine. We were worried when you lost consciousness but we found our way out of the factory in time for me to I heal you. Then I healed Sam and Dean drove us back here.”
You leaned back into your pillows, rubbing a hand over your face.
He watched you in silence before speaking up again. “You are still confused?”
“No, Cass. I’m just... trying to figure out why the three of you would risk your lives to save me.”
“As I said-”
“Yeah, yeah. ‘Ohana means family’ and all that.” You paused, examining your hands for a moment before looking up at the angel. “Why did you say that, Cass?”
“I thought it seemed fitting.”
“Because we’re family?”
“Of course.”
You nodded, looking away and pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth in an attempt to stop the oncoming tears. But thinking that Castiel wouldn’t notice was useless.
“You’re upset?”
“No, no, I’m fine. It’s just...” You hurriedly wiped at your eyes, struggling to find the right words to say.
“You don’t want to be my family...” The dejected tone of his voice caused you to turn around immediately, moving to sit on your knees in front of him on the bed.
“Hey, of course I do.” You tried reassuring him, grasping both of his hands with your own. “And I’m happy that you consider us family. I just... thinking of you as a brother is-”
He straightened up, shaking his head. “I think you are misunderstanding my intentions.”
You looked at him, unsure of what he meant. “I... you said I was your family...”
Cass nodded, holding your stare with his own. “I do see you as my family. Much like John was to Mary, and as Lisa once was to Dean.”
You froze, unable to believe what you had just heard. Searching his eyes you tried to find some indication that he might not understand exactly what he was implying. But his stare was steady. Although, if you didn’t know any better, you would have said he looked a little nervous.
“Unless you don’t...”
You didn’t let him finish his thought as you leaned forward, crashing your lips to his. He was definitely caught off guarded, and in his shocked state he didn’t even have time to return the kiss before you were already pulling away. But you didn't go far. Your noses were still lightly brushing as you gazed into his eyes while he processed what had happened. A smile to match your own gracing his face once he did.
“Trust me, I do.”
Before I do tags I have an honest question......
Considering Misha confirmed that the shortened version of Castiel is Cass, should we be using that now? Personally, I was on team “Cas” and it’s still a little weird for me to write “Cass” but I changed it in my fic anyways in order to be accurate.
Do people have a preference? Like, if you started reading a fic and the writer spelt it “Cas” would that turn you off of reading the fic or would you still read it (and vice-versa)?
Hopefully that wasn’t confusing hahaa - but honestly... What are your thoughts?
Request and Song Inspiration: Anon - Can you do a Song-fic with Mirrors by JT and it could be like where the reader gets hurt on a hunt or something? Please and thank you!
Summary: While working a case, Dean can’t shake the feeling that there is something off about the reader.
Word Count: 3100-ish
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: Language, SPN related violence, Angst, semi-original lore (If this might bother you make sure to read the author’s note at the bottom under the tags for more info before you decide - if it doesn’t bother you DO NOT read the author's note at the bottom first because it is a major SPOILER)
A/N: I can’t thank you guys enough for the amazing response I received on the first part and I really hope this next part turned out okay! Let me know what you think!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
“Okay, so House Vic One and House Vic Four were both stepping out on their partners. And...” Dean paused, looking down at the papers in front of him. “And Motel Vic Three was a hooker. That could be something.” He looked up at his younger brother with a hopeful expression on his face.
Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Dean, I don’t think-”
Dean cut him off, standing up abruptly and sending his chair tumbling across the floor.
“It’s been three days Sam, and we have nothing!” He slammed his hands down on the table, not missing the momentary look of shock that crossed his brother’s face. “So unless you have something better to go on don’t you dare try and tell me that I’m reaching!”
Sam shut his laptop, not exactly sure why his brother was letting this case get him so worked up but giving Dean his full attention nonetheless. “We could sit here all day making up theories, but you know as well as I do that they mean nothing if we can’t find any solid proof to back them. Maybe...” He rubbed his hand over his mouth, looking away for a moment before deciding to continue, “Maybe it’s time to admit that this just isn’t our kind of thing...”
“No.”
“Dean..”
“I said no! We’re not giving up until we figure out what the hell is going on and Y/N...” He cut himself off, looking away from his brother.
Sam frowned at him. “What about Y/N?”
Dean sighed, staring at the bed he and Y/N had been sharing the past few nights. “I don’t- I can’t explain it, Sammy, but she's just- she’s been acting different.”
“What do you mean?”
Dean turned around, eyeing his brother before deciding that if there was ever a person who was going to believe him it would be Sam. “Just hear me out, okay?”
“Of course.”
“Nothing feels right with her anymore.” Dean could see that his brother was about to interrupt but he cut him off before he even got the chance. “No, just listen. I’ve been in love with the girl for the past year. We’ve been best friends for two. And I don’t even care if I sound like a god damn chick flick right now but I’m telling you, I know her, Sammy. And I don't...” He stopped, not wanting to admit it out loud but knowing he had to. “...I don’t think that’s her, man. I don’t think that’s Y/N.”
Sam froze, staring at his brother, waiting for him to tell him he wasn’t serious. But the look on Dean’s face told him he wasn’t going to.
“Dean, I... are you sure?”
Dean shook his head. “No. I’m not. But I can't shake this feeling, and if something were to happen to her I...” He trailed off, unable to even think about the possibility of Y/N being hurt, or worse.
He felt Sam’s hand give his shoulder a squeeze and he looked up to see his brother now standing in front of him. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”
Dean nodded and they both sat back down to continue researching. Y/N, if he could even call her that, was out questioning more locals and Dean wanted to atleast make some headway in the case before she returned.
“So your adultery theory...”
Dean stared at the woman sleeping next to him, eyes flickering up and down her body as he tried to pinpoint some feature that would confirm his doubts. But, just like every other night, he saw nothing. Looking at her now there was nothing physically off about her, but during the day it seemed as if everything was. In subtle ways at least.
She walked with a bit more sway in her hips than usual. Her smile was always the slightest bit to wide, like she was forcing it. The light blush that usually appeared on her cheeks after one of his not so subtle flirting attempts had been missing for days.
It didn’t surprise him that Sam hadn’t picked up on the changes. Sure, the two of them were close, but Dean had spent the last two years falling in love with all her little quirks. Seeing them change, even the slightest bit, was unsettling.
It had been two more days since he had admitted his doubts to Sam, and as far as Y/N knew they were still no closer to solving the case. But that was far from the truth.
After Dean had convinced Sam to at least look into his adultery connections, they were able to gather enough information for it to be plausible. They had been able to confirm House Victims One, Two, and Four as being unfaithful to their spouses; a neighbor of victim two eventually giving them the information they needed to make that third connection. They were still unclear about victim three, but when the wife had denied putting fresh flowers on her late husband’s grave they, at Dean’s insistence, had made the call to assume it was the work of a secret mistress.
Victim three of the motel murders, the hooker, had been an easier battle for Dean to win. It didn’t take much convincing on his part for Sam to consider the very really possibility that the woman could have been caught up in instances of adultery, whether the poor woman had known or not. The only other victim they had been able to connect to the theory being victim two. After talking with his friends in town, the brothers had learned that victim two’s wife had run off with another man a few years ago. Sam had been hesitant to call this a valid connection but Dean once again insisted, considering it was the only logical thing they had to go on.
Unable to take staring at Y/N’s face for a second longer Dean got up, rubbing his face as he silently made his way to the bathroom. He shut the door quietly and flicked on the light before moving to stand in front of the mirror. He stared at his reflection for a moment, taking note of the dark circles under his eyes before looking down and turning on the faucet.
When he looked back into the mirror, his eyes widened, seeing Y/N’s face staring back at him. He quickly turned around, looking defensively around the room before a voice coming from the mirror recaptured his attention.
“Dean?” As soon as Dean made eye contact with her in the mirror she broke down crying, “Please tell me that you can actually see me.”
“I see you,” he murmured, still not quite believing it himself. He lifted his hand up to the mirror and she copied him, pressing hers to the same spot with a teary smile. He stared at their hands, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips before it turned into a frown as everything started sinking in. Looking up to meet her glimmering y/e/c eyes, that frown turned into a deadly glare as he turned to leave. “That fucking bitch!”
Before he got to far, her frightened voice stopped him in his tracks. “Dean wait!” He looked back at the scared girl in the mirror, the love of his life, and it only made him want to go kill the woman in their bed more. “Please don’t leave...”
“I’ll be right back, okay?”
She didn’t seem reassured. “I don’t- Dean, I’ve been trying for days to get you to see me. I’m not sure why it’s working now but I don’t... if you leave I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it again.”
“Hey,” he walked back over to stand in front of the mirror and again pressed his palm against the glass. “I’m going to get you out of here, okay? I promise.”
She looked down at his hand before pressing hers to the spot a second time, giving him a hesitant nod. A signal he knew meant she was giving him the okay to leave. He lingered for a moment longer before storming out of the room and over to the body in his bed. In one fluid motion he ripped off the blankets and the woman startled awake with a shriek, but it was abruptly cut off as Dean grabbed her by both ankles and pulled her to the floor, successfully knocking the wind out of her.
“DEAN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”
Dean barely spared a glance at his startled brother before he was standing over the woman on the floor, reaching down to grab a fistful of her hair. “She fucking locked Y/N in a god damn mirror, Sammy! A fucking mirror!”
Sam was immediately off his bed, stumbling into the bathroom to see for himself.
By now the woman was laughing as Dean dragged her towards the bathroom, pulling her in and shoving her into the wall opposite the mirror as Sam was examining the object in question itself. “Let me tell you how this is going to go. You’re going to tell us how to get Y/N out of the mirror, or I’ll-”
The woman, who still resembled Y/N, smirked. “Or you’ll what, Dean? Punch me? Stab me? Torture me? Give it your best shot honey but, quite frankly, I don’t think you have it in you.”
Dean lifted his arm, fully intending to silence her with a punch but looking into the familiar y/e/c eyes staring back at him he couldn’t.
“What’d I tell you, Dean? Can’t hurt me without it feeling like you're hurting Y/N, can you?” She laughed, before reaching up and rubbing her head. “You can sure pull hair though.” Her eyes flickered over to the mirror, still clearly amused with the whole situation. “I’ve gotta say, I didn't have the two of you pegged as the kinky type."
--Y/N POV--
You glared back at the woman Dean had pinned against the wall, sick of listening to her bullshit. “Oh for god sakes, Dean, just put a pillow case over the bitch’s head and punch her already!”
Dean looked over his shoulder, giving you an amused look, and when you glanced at Sam he was doing the same. The psychotic mirror bitch on the other hand was glaring at you.
“Cheating is no way to have fun, Y/N.”
“Neither is murdering innocent people!”
She scoffed, “Innocent? My dear, those people were far from innocent.”
Sam piped up, stopping his examination of the mirror momentarily. “Maybe, but I don’t think death is a justifiable punishment for adultery-”
“Well, I think you might need to brush up on your history there, Sam. People have been punishing adulterers with death for centuries.”
“And I think you need to brush up on your current events. This is twenty-first century America bitch, we don’t kill people for cheating!” Sometimes spirit logic confused you, but then again, you could only assume how disorientating the afterlife must be. You had seen it turn seemingly good people into vengeful spirits a countless number of times. It really shouldn’t come as a shock anymore.
“Oh really? Because that didn't seem to stop the man who killed me!” The upper right corner of the mirror cracked as she screamed at you in anger.
Although it seemed to do nothing to you, you could tell from the look on Dean’s face that it must have done something and you watched as he wasted no time in grabbing her by the back of the neck, forcing her out of the room.
Hesitantly, you turned your attention towards Sam. “Sam...”
“Don’t worry, you’re still there. You just... flickered out for a second.” He could see the panic on your face and hurried to reassure you. “Hey, we’re going to get you out of there, okay? It’s just... It’s probably best if we keep her in the other room until we figure out how.”
You nodded, glancing warily up at the cracked mirror and taking a deep breathe. “Go. Help Dean.”
“Are you sure? I can stay if...”
“I’ll be fine, Sam. The faster you two figure this out the better.”
Dean leaned away from his computer screen, running his hands over his face. They’d been at it for an hour and he still felt like they weren’t any closer to getting Y/N out of the mirror. It seemed like every culture ever known to man had it’s own beliefs on mirrors...
“Maybe we’re looking at this all wrong...”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what are you searching right now?”
Dean hesitated, before mumbling an answer. “... mirror monsters.” Sam raised his eyebrow. “Oh shut up. I was running out of things to try.”
Sam raised his hands up in defense, choosing to let this one go. “I’m just saying, what if we aren’t researching the right thing? Remember the Bloody Mary case we worked? She wasn’t some ancient creature. She was just some innocent girl whose spirit got trapped inside a mirror...”
“Yeah, after she was brutally murdered.”
“Exactly. She was murdered in front of a mirror and the man who killed her was never charged. She was essentially a vengeful spirit, punishing people who she believed had done wrong by killing them in a similar way to how she was murdered.”
“Are you trying to tell me that we’re dealing with the cousin of Bloody Mary.”
“If you want to put it like that then sure.”
Dean nodded thoughtfully, before turning his attention to the third occupant of the table. They had tied her to one of the chairs, duck taping her mouth shut for good measure. She was staring straight ahead, a look of defiance plastered across her face and Dean knew that she wouldn’t be in the mood to help them any time soon.
“She did say that somebody killed her...” Dean stared at her for a few more moments before turning back to his brother, a determined look in his eyes. “Start making a list of all the murders that have happened in town. I’m thinking at least a year old. Look for anything having to do with women, motels, or neck lacerations.”
Sam nodded and Dean began typing at his own computer. “What’re you gonna do?”
“I’m looking up anything having to do with mirrors and spirits.”
“Anything?”
Sam ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Apart from the past six months, there hasn't been a murder in this town for almost 50 years, and that was just a bar fight gone wrong.”
“Are you sure? Maybe you missed something?
Sam shook his head.
“I don’t-” He paused, brow furrowing as he began concentrating on what he was typing into his computer. Dean watched on silently, letting his brother work out whatever he was thinking. “Okay, so there haven't been any murders in town, but I do have a missing persons case from seven years ago. Briana Miller, age 23, last seen by her roommates leaving their apartment around 11:39 PM.”
The brothers both turned their attention to the woman sitting next to them. A smirk crossed Dean’s face when he saw her glaring daggers at his brother. “I think we’ve got ourselves a winner. Nice work, Sammy.”
Sam nodded his acknowledgement, taking a drink of his coffee. “What about you? Find anything interesting?”
Dean turned his attention back to his laptop, glancing over the tabs he had open in front of him. “I mean there’s loads of lore on spirits becoming trapped in mirrors. Take our good old friend, Mary, for instance. She dies in front of a mirror and her soul becomes trapped. But even before Bloody Mary, there are countless records of folklore that associated mirrors with death, so much so that it became a common practice across cultures to cover or turn mirrors towards the wall in the homes of the deceased in order to prevent their soul from becoming caught inside...”
Sam cut in, not yet understanding how this related to their predicament. Y/N wasn’t a spirit, she was a living person. “Okay, so how does that explain Y/N ending up in one?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m getting there. So a lot of these cultures have very similar beliefs, only a few minor variations between them, right? But I could only find one which referenced living spirits being taken. In Bulgaria, it was believed that this practice not only prevented the soul of the deceased from becoming trapped but that it also prevented their soul, which would linger around it’s former home until the burial of it’s body, from carrying off the soul of a living person whose reflection appeared in the mirror.”
Sam leaned back, going over the information in his head.“So what, that means whoever killed Briana never buried her body?”
Dean nodded. “At least not properly.”
“I don’t know man... You really think she's stuck in there simply because her body was never buried? Mary was cremated and her spirit was still trapped inside the mirror...”
“Yeah, but Mary actually wrote on the mirror in her own blood. She was attached to it. Briana was just killed in front of the thing, and if the guy never properly buried her I’d say this is our best option.”
Dean understood his brother’s skepticism but this was the only information they had found that remotely made sense, and they were running out of time. He wanted Y/N out of the mirror before she ended up like one of Briana’s other victims.
“So... what? We find her body and bury it?” Sam asked, eyeing the Y/N look-alike sitting next to them.
“That’s what I’m thinking, maybe give her a nice salt and burn just in case,” Dean said, meeting the woman’s y/e/c eyed glare with one of his own.
“And how exactly do we find the body, Dean? She died seven years ago. There isn’t exactly going to be a trail of clues to follow.”
“Well, the guy was never caught right? That means he's still around, so all we gotta do is find him and ask him where she is.”
Sam didn’t look convinced. His brother had surely lost his mind if he thought it was going to be that easy. “You really think he’s going to just come right out and tell us where he buried his murder victim?”
SPN Pond Tags (minus those whose links didn’t work): If you’d rather not be tagged let me know and I can take you off, no worries! @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @whispersandwhiskerburn @wildfirewinchester @faith-in-dean @writingbeautifulmen @chaos-and-the-calm67 @quiddy-writes @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @waywardjoy @for-the-love-of-dean @mysupernaturalfics @loveitsallineed @nichelle-my-belle @notnaturalanahi @winchestersmolder @ohwritever @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons @maraisabellegrey @supernaturalyobessed @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @revwinchester @memariana91 @plaidstiel-wormstache @jpadjackles @babypieandwhiskey @deantbh @supermoonpanda @supernatural-jackles @mrswhozeewhatsis @spn-fan-girl-173 @fiveleaf @deansleather
Tags crossed out = I couldn't get your link to work.
A/N: (Don’t bother reading this if you have already read the fic. This is really only useful to people who want to know the lore I am using before they decide whether or not to read the fic)
Okay, so the lore I am using for this is based off of a Bulgarian superstition revolving around mirrors.
Essentially, what the lore states is that after a person’s death, mirrors would be covered or turned to the wall to prevent the soul of the newly departed from becoming trapped inside the mirror. This practice was also believed to prevent the soul of the dead person, which would linger around it’s former home until the burial of it’s body, from carrying off the soul of a living person whose reflection appeared in a mirror.
Because there is not much else to go on, I had to get a bit creative to fill in the blanks. Mainly regarding how a soul actually gets into the mirror as well as how to get the soul out of the mirror (which will be in part three).
I tried my best to make it seem as realistic and plausible as possible (keeping in mind the “realisticness” of Supernatural in general lol).
“You’re so pretty!” Sam’s large hands smoothed down my hair, as he leaned against me. I was trying to haul him to the car after celebrating his birthday. His arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me close. “You’re hair smells soooo...”
I had to laugh, at his antics. “Come on birthday boy, let’s get you home.”
“What was I saying... Oh your hair, it smells like vanilla and coconut. I just want to eat it.” Stumbling in the parking lot, he falls backward, bringing me down on top of him. His arms enclosing around me, pulling me in for a kiss.
Knowing I was going to need help, I called Dean. He came out of the bar, seeing Sam laying on the ground he laughed. Bending down he pulled him up. “Woe, your drunk, can you even walk?”
Sam smiled at him. “My beautiful (Y/N), can help me.” Dean helped me get him to the car. Depositing him in the backseat.
Dean looked at me. “Are you going to be able to handle him, once you get back to the bunker?”
I smiled. “I’ll mange,” Climbing into the car, I drove off to the bunker.
XXX
Sam laid in the backseat on the way to the bunker. “(Y/N), you know what?”
“What Sam?” I laughed, wondering what he was about to reveal to me.
“I think you should find a dark place, pull over, and come back and keep me company.”
His hand was moving over my shoulder. “I think I need to take your drunk ass home.”
“I think you’re beautiful, and sexy. You’re wonderful and I want to be so much more then friends.”
“Okay, just lay back and sleep it off. We’ll talk tomorrow.” I knew it was just the alcohol talking. He always got this way, when he drank. Pulling into the garage of the bunker, I tried to wake Sam up.
He was out, and not budging, rolling my eyes. I went inside to get him a blanket, covering him up, I left him to sleep it off.
XXX
Sam woke up the next morning, his head throbbing. Finding a bottle of water and a bottle of pain reliever he smiled. Knowing that (Y/N), had taken car of him.
Pushing himself up, the memories of the night before came rushing back. He’d made a fool of himself. Getting out of the car, he made his way to the kitchen. Seeing (Y/N) in the kitchen, he slowly approached her.
“(Y/N), about last night.”
“You were drunk...I know you didn’t mean it.” He crossed the room, pulling her into his arms.
“I meant every word, being drunk just gave me courage.” He lowered his lips to her kissing her. “I love you.”
