Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.
AN: Here we go - my last short series for @jacklesversebingo, and my first time writing a 1940s AU! I've had a lot of fun on this one. 🥰
Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Historical Epic
Series Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Angst, PSTD/trauma, WWII history, infidelity/cheating, eventual smut, lawyer!Sam, soldier!Dean, hurt/comfort, fluff, heavily inspired by The Clock (1945), starring Judy Garland and Robert Walker.
🎵 Listen While You Read:
Music Playlist: YouTube || Spotify
Playlist Poster || Moodboard
Chapters:
✦ Part 1: Legal Grounds
✦ Part 2: Devil May Care
✦ Part 3: A Moment
✦ Part 4: Complicit
✦ Part 5: Dried Ink
Series Complete!
Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!
Jacklesverse Bingo24 Masterlist
Dean Winchester Series List
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Follow @zepskieswrites (with notifications on) to get notified every time I drop a new story or chapter. 💜
Soldier!Dean Winchester who meets a new dame in every town his battalion travels through. Doesn't matter where they are, what country, or what kind of town, big or small, he'll always catch the eye of some pretty broad in a bar, put on the whole devoted soldier shipping out tomorrow morning bit and get himself someone to distract him for a few hours.
Soldier!Dean Winchester who jokes around and runs all the poker games, winning them too, but when the chips are very literally down, he's the one to run head first into a storm of bullets to pull out his buddy. He's a walking Kamikaze, but he always gets his men back home, even if it's in a box.
Soldier!Dean Winchester who writes home to his girl like all the other guys. He writes her a letter every night, telling her how much he misses her and the latest antics his brothers there have gotten up to. Fitzgerald and his weird-ass sock puppet, grumpy old Sargent Turner, Nurse Harvelle who he's sure his girl would be friends with.
Soldier!Dean Winchester who never lets the boys hear what he's written no matter the teasing. They're nosy sons of bitches, so is he when Fitzgerald writes to his good friend Lafitte a battalion over, but he'll never let them read his letters, or the ones his girl sends back.
Soldier!Dean Winchester who keeps that up, the whole sweetheart back home routine. He's the only one without someone waiting for him if he gets back, so he writes letter after letter to her, wondering if he'll ever get to meet her and dance to Glenn Miller together.
@sacr1ficialang3l it took me a little bit but here we are! I really hope you like this, I had a lot of fun with it!
Warnings: Physical altercation. Mentions of relationship abuse (physical and verbal), nothing extremely graphic. Angst? Longing?
Word count: 1.6k
—
England
18 December 1915
Saturday
It was early in the morning when Dean was woken up by someone knocking too aggressively on a neighbors door. The sun was already taking over almost every visible surface of his home, he grabbed his glasses and peered at his clock that was sitting on the dining table: 07:13. Dean groaned at what time it was and immediately slammed his head back onto his pillow, but with his luck, was met with arguing not long after he had closed his eyes. If the voices didn’t sound so close and so familiar, he wouldn’t be concerned; with Fran coming home last night in distress, Dean needed to make sure everything was okay. He bolted out of bed and pressed his ear to his door.
“Francine you don’t know what you saw, please listen to me–”
“My name, Richard, is Franny. And I know exactly what I saw.” She was enraged, “You were whispering to Myrna all night, you think I didn’t notice…”
“Of course I knew that you caught on to that,” Richard said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “I was only being secretive while talking with her because I was asking her what type of ring you’d like...”
Dean knew that he was lying, Fran never has anything nice to say when it comes to Myrna, especially because–
“Really!? Really…you’re going to stand here and lie to me straight to my face? If you really knew me you’d actually listen when I tell you that she goes after every guy any of her friends are interested in! That’s why I didn’t want you talking to her!” Fran yells. Breathing heavily–her voice breaks when she says, “It makes me uncomfortable. We’re not friends. She wouldn’t know the first thing about me.”
“You’d be surprised at what she knows about you, Francine.” With every response Richard gives Franny, his self-righteousness comes out in bigger waves than the last.
“I bet she knows you exceptionally well then, considering your face was between her legs last ni–”
There was a brief pause before Dean heard quick footsteps and a thud. Then faintly heard, “Listen here you bitch.”
He was up and running before he knew it. The door to the flat was open when he reached his friend. Richard had her by the throat. Pinned up against the wall. It broke Dean’s heart to see Fran so frightened. She was pulling at Richard’s hand, unable to get a good breath in. Rage overtook Dean at the sight of what Richard was doing. No one had time to say a word before Dean ripped him off of Franny, and proceeded to do the same thing to him that he did to the woman before them. Giving him a taste of his own medicine.
Dean snarled quietly forcing Richard against the wall, “No. You listen to me, Dick. If you ever touch her again, I will kill you. If you even step foot near Fran again and I know about it–you will regret it. Get the fuck out.” With that, he throws Richard out of her flat by his throat and closes the door.
He turns to Fran, examines her throat, and asks her if she’s okay. Fran has tears that are threatening to escape her eyes but she only nods up and down. Dean knows not to ask any more questions. Instead he offers his time and his flat whenever she needs it. All she can do is nod, her throat is slowly closing up from holding in her anger, her fear. He gives her a squeeze on her shoulder and heads towards the door.
“Thank you, Dean.”
It’s the faintest he’s ever heard her voice.
He turns around and gives her a small, warm smile. “Of course.” I’d do anything for you.
—
England
23 December 1915
Thursday
Dean hasn’t seen or heard from her in almost a week and he can’t help but to worry. Richard hasn’t come by again, at least that Dean knows of. There’s been no commotion on their floor since the argument. Maybe she’s staying with family?
It’s been a quiet week at work as well. Mimi lost her grandson on the Western Front. She won’t talk about it. Won’t talk at all actually. She hasn’t been able to look Dean in the eye, which is understandable. Rena, who is happiest in the silence, finds it to be excruciating. The grief is palpable. Everyone has lost something at this point.
He walks into work in a fog. There’s been talk about a conscription being introduced too. There’s simply not enough men volunteering to keep the armies going, so they’re going to start forcing people into the war if they’re healthy. Dean fits the description, and so does his little brother.
Sammy.
Dean could not imagine losing him. Could barely stand being away from him now, but after their mother died a few years ago–John couldn’t cope with seeing Dean everyday and had kicked him out for simply resembling Mary. Sam manages to sneak away to see him every other week. He turns eighteen in six months and graduates soon after that. It’s been eating Dean alive. If he couldn’t protect him…
“You alright there, love?”
Rena had placed her hand on his shoulder and he barely felt it. He looked up at her, worry had replaced her usual scowl. This was the first time there was a maternal spark in the older woman's eyes. He nodded, giving Rena a pat on her hand that still rested on him. On a day like today, it was an unspoken rule, that if nothing was said, there would be no further questions.
The day was slow. Every minute felt like hours. Every thought blended together into an anxiety-ridden mess. What would happen next? Who would get pulled into war first, Sam or Dean? Would he have enough money saved up for Sam by the time he’s of age? What was it like on the fronts? Would he ever see Franny again if he was sent away?
Dean didn’t want to die for nothing. More importantly, he didn’t want to die with nothing.
—
England
25 December 1915
Saturday
The dress that he had been working on for Franny was almost complete. It’s been in the works for months and it’s a relief that all he had left to do was get the precise measurements for the bust, waist, and hips. He was about to put the dress in a nicely decorated box that Mimi gifted him, when there was a knock on his door.
His heart was pounding so fiercely against his ribcage, he thought they might actually break. The sudden adrenaline rush made him feel lightheaded. There was no time to conceal the garment before she walked through the door. Dean had gone still.
“Is that for one of your clients, Winchester?”
His words got stuck in his throat. There, on her neck, where Richard had choked her–were faint purple and yellow bruises. Her eyes drooped with defeat when she realized that Dean had seen the mess that was made.
If only he knew about everything else. Franny kept the thought to herself, she didn’t want anyone dying today.
“My god, Fran. I–I didn’t realize he had grabbed you that hard.”
They both walked slowly towards each other, stopping once their feet were only inches apart. Tears stained her flushed cheeks. Her under eyes, the color of the night sky. Her hair disheveled, and she tried to fix it while Dean was taking in her appearance. The insides of her palms had been scabbed over from where her nails had dung in. He had only seen this one other time, seen her like this one other time…
Has he hurt you before?
The question was clear in Dean's eyes.
Yes.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to worry about me. I didn’t want you to go after him. He said that he wouldn’t do it again…”
He was past the point of boiling over with anger. It wouldn’t help anything. Wouldn’t help her. So Dean did what he could to calm her down. He took her hands in his, rotated them so her palms face upward, and planted tender kisses to each indentation. All while looking into her eyes.
This is what a man is supposed to do. This is how a man is supposed to touch you. Dean was pleading with his unwavering stare.
It may have worked. Franny slowly pulled her hands free and wrapped them around Dean’s waist. She breathed him in and rubbed his back in a soft circular motion.
“Thank you.”
“Anything for you, my darling. Lets run you a bath, yeah?”
“Sounds wonderful.”
“Afterwards I’ll tailor your Christmas present.” He points towards the dress hanging on the mannequin that’s in the corner of the room.
He swears he saw the light brighten in her eyes. There's more purpose in her steps towards the tub like she wanted to get it over with already.
I can’t believe he made that for me.
—
The measurements were almost perfect. The bust was a tad too big for her but it fit like a dream.
“Were you secretly taking my dresses while I showered, Dean? It’s bloody accurate, this.” Gesturing to her new piece of clothing.
“You forget, I do this for a living. I’m good at guessing people's sizes.” Dean says with a needle between his teeth, winking cheekily at her.
Only a few more needles to place, and then she was free to take the dress off. But as Dean was feeding one through, it pricked Franny’s breast.
“Ow!”
“Shit, I’m sorry. You okay?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know, sweetheart? What can I do–“
Franny brushed a strand of Dean’s thick blonde hair out of his face. Shock had kicked in, his face going pale at her gentleness.
“Kiss it better, like you did my hands?”
“Fuck.”
—
A/N: If I need to fix my warnings at all, please message me. Keep in mind this is an au!dean, he's a sweet boy. He still has his humor and trauma from is dad, so some things are staying the same!
tags! @aylacavebear @daylighted (again, I hope it's okay that I tagged you guys <3)
Summary: Dean enlisted in the hopes to help secure enough money for Sam to be able to go to college. Of course he didn’t tell Sam. Why would he? Sam would understand, right? Turns out, Sam didn’t get it, and is giving Dean the silent treatment for over a year. In Dean’s desperation to reconnect with Sam, Dean reaches out to his brother’s best friend. Little does he know that the hurricane named Y/N will turn out to be the reason he wants to stay alive and go back home for.
Chapter Warnings: We’re still at them being idiots. Mostly Dean in this, I guess. Also Flangst.
WC: 3593
Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons <3
Read ahead on Patreon!
Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist
Y/N watches as Sam takes in the room and the people inside, and what he thinks he has seen. Jess is close behind him, still rubbing her forehead from walking straight into Sam’s shoulder as he stopped abruptly to shout at them.
Sam’s eyes flit between her and Dean. They are wide but she doesn’t think that it is because of the close proximity she and Dean found themselves in. The younger brother’s eyebrows climb so high up his forehead that they are an inch away from disappearing into his bangs, “What did you do?”
Her best friend’s words are coming out a little loud, and honestly, it sounds a little dramatic, even for Sam. It’s not like they did anything anyway so she doesn’t even know if she should bother explaining herself, especially if there’s nothing to explain. Of course, they were close. Of course, her heart was beating out of her chest but that was just because they let themselves get carried away, right? For a fleeting moment, she would have thought that Dean was about to kiss her but that’s clearly just her imagination playing tricks on her. Her brain must have short-circuited for a moment there.
Dean meanwhile still has both his hands in his pant pockets and leans his back against the window. His ears are a little pink and he looks down at his boots like they’re the most interesting thing in the world. She wonders if he felt it too. Wonders if he did feel the push and pull of their breath mingling together, wonders what he would have done if she just leaned forward a little for her lips to touch his. And then she can’t help wondering if his lips are as soft as they look, wonders if he would pull away because she’s like a sister to him or if he would have pushed forward and kissed her back. Because setting their situation aside, the idea of being rejected and being really wanted by someone who she fell for is frightening all the same. All she knows is that she really enjoys having Dean around again and she’s not about to jeopardize what they have with a stupid girl-crush.
“What do you mean?” She asks and cocks an eyebrow at Sam as she settles into the bed, her back resting against a pillow and she doesn’t really look at Dean anymore, doesn’t know if his gaze is back on hers now that she has spoken up, because she’s kind of scared of what she’ll find in his expression. It could be so many things and she’s not in the right headspace to interpret any of it.
Sam, meanwhile, points his index finger at her and swings it over to Dean. His mouth opens and closes in quick succession but no words spill out. The look on his face is comical and it’s not every day that she sees her best friend speechless. He’s usually very good with his words.
Jess, finally seeing them after stepping around her boyfriend, clasps both her hands over her own mouth to keep herself from shrieking out too loud, but they all hear it all the same. It doesn’t help with her headache that’s slowly building up after the eventful head-shearing.
“Your hair!” Sam sputters, eyes still wide. God, she wishes she could take a picture but there’s no time because he goes on. “Fuck, Y/N, you guys give me an aneurysm of my own!”
“Sammy,” Dean growls, “I don’t think it’s the right place for such a joke,”
“No, no, that’s alright,” Y/N turns to the older Winchester and grins because honestly, it’s kind of funny, and if she can’t laugh about it means that the only option is crying and that’s the last thing she wants to do.
Dean tips his head sideways, his eyebrows quirk together funnily. It looks like he’s half frowning and half confused, and it might be the cutest look on him yet because there’s also a slight pout, and really it’s not fair because he’s fucking bald but still looks so handsomely cute, and no… she’s not going there, so she just sends him an assuring smile, hoping that he can see that it’s really okay, before turning her attention back to the newcomers who are now standing on the other side of her bed.
Sam’s hand goes to her head, as she thought it would, palm rubbing along her stubbly scalp, “Oh my god,” he gasps.
Jess has more encouraging words. The smile on the blonde’s face is warm and inviting. “You look great, by the way. Not a lot of people can pull it off,”
“Was it your idea or Dean’s?” Sam asks, suspicious. Maybe he just wants to have someone to blame.
“Mine.” She says, “I wanted to do it, y’know? They will shave a part of my head anyway and this way, it feels like I still have control.”
Dean, meanwhile, just listens and his hands have found their way out of his pants to be able to cross his arms over his chest. She does notice how his shirt stretches over the broadness of his shoulders, even though she tries hard not to look.
Her best friend still has his hand on her head as he strokes it, and she doesn’t know what comes over him because the next thing out of his mouth doesn’t make sense to her, at all.
Sam’s hand leaves her head to thread through his own long locks. It’s getting way out of hand, she thinks, especially because he already has to tame it when studying, having to use Jess’ hair tie all the time to keep his hair from falling into his face.
“Imma do it,” Sam mumbles. His eyes are on her and if she thought that she’s seen some doubt behind them, she’s certain all of the doubt’s gone as soon as his lips part into a wide smile.
“What?” Dean and her shout out at the same time and Jess nearly doubles over laughing. The blonde has to clutch at the foot of her hospital bed for leverage. And maybe one of the voices that just objected Sam came out a little squeaky and really high, and she’s certain that it wasn’t her voice.
“Duh! I’ll shave my head!” Sam exclaims, whipping his head around the room to smile at each and every one.
Honestly, she thought Jess would be the one to object the loudest but all she can see is the bright smile and warm love she radiates for whatever crazy idea Sam has, and god, if that’s not love, then she doesn’t know what is.
Dean rubs his hands together after the initial shock has settled, grinning mischievously, “Well, I think I can get behind the idea now.” He already moves to the bathroom and there’s a buzzing sound coming out of it to which Sam momentarily cringes.
“Sam, you don’t have to,” Y/N tries to reason.
“And let y’all have all the fun without me? Yeah, no, thanks.”
She lays her hand on his shoulder, squeezes it while they can hear Dean’s laughter coming from the bathroom. She can’t help but laugh too, and even more when Dean sticks his head out to wriggle with his eyebrows with that stupid big fat grin on his face, that’s all crinkles and boyish charm. So she adds, “Right, I hope you know that you would break your brother’s heart if you back out now.”
Sam groans.
*
After a round of rock, paper, scissors to decide who gets to shave Sam’s head, partly because Sam doesn’t trust Dean to do it she volunteered, but the older Winchester wanted a fair fight (which she came out a winner against Dean, but that’s no surprise, he really should stop throwing scissors), Dean sulked down on the empty chair. His eyes only lit up again when she told him that she’s giving him the honor because her head was pounding too hard to get out of bed again anyway.
Dean was quick to hunch over her, checking if everything’s alright but she couldn’t miss the stupid grin on his face. In the back, already standing in the bathroom, is Sam who rolls his eyes so far back, because Dean gets to do it anyway, she is afraid he’ll get a concussion by how far back they go.
It’s thirty minutes later that both Sam and Jess emerge from the bathroom with their heads shaved. Apparently, Jess wanted in on the fun, and god, she just loves that woman more and more.
Now they’re here, standing in her tiny hospital room looking like monks while they wait for the doctor to wheel her into surgery.
Sam’s standing next to Dean and the older brother can’t stop rubbing his hand over his sibling’s head. She can see that Sam’s annoyed, so much that he growls audibly. It’s great to see them like this. It almost feels like the one and a half years of hardship didn’t happen. They fall into old habits quickly and with ease. And honestly, she knows that chances are rare but if she should not survive this surgery, she’s glad to be the reason to help build up the burned bridge between her two favorite people.
Dean stands back, arms crossed over his chest as Sam and Jess are fawning over Y/N while they say their goodbyes before she’s wheeled off into surgery. And it shouldn’t be like that. They shouldn’t have to say their goodbyes. If anything, they should tell Y/N that they’ll see her later, which they will. Dean reminds himself that he refuses to accept any other outcome.
Somehow, the doctor did a good job in explaining but they all know that even though the chances are small that things can go sideways, there’s still an off chance that things could go wrong and it’ll see her landing in a coma or worse, but Jesus, if Dean thinks about all the things that could happen, he’ll go batshit crazy.
“If you would follow me, I’ll show you the waiting room but you're also free to leave and come back later. She’ll be out in about five hours.” Carmen addresses the whole room, and Dean snaps out of his thoughts. He didn’t even notice that the woman slipped into the room with them earlier.
“We’ll be here when you wake up, okay?” Sam’s speaking to Y/N while he squeezes her shoulder, and Jess leans over to give her a hug.
Carmen’s waiting by the door as both Sam and Jess walk past her but he’s not making a move. The nurse must have noticed his hesitation and asks, “Dean, are you coming?”
He snorts, a little irritated at the way she clearly wanted him out of here. If he had his way he wouldn’t leave her side at all. Even if he’s slightly moody, he tries to not let it out on the nurse, she’s just doing her job.
“I haven’t talked to Y/N yet, just give me a couple of minutes, please?” Dean asks but he doesn’t even wait for the answer. Instead, he walks over to where Y/N’s laying. Clearly, she’s exhausted from their shenanigans before. He just hopes her body is still strong enough to go through the grueling procedure. He doesn’t even register if Carmen’s still waiting or not. It’s not like he cares anyway. All his caring is going into the woman lying in the hospital bed.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, Dean takes her hand in his. They’re cold and soft, like they always are. A contrast to his big and calloused one.
“You okay?” Dean tries not to sound too concerned as he brushes the back of his free hand against her cheek, knuckles grazing her soft skin. There’s no hair around anymore to tuck behind her ear, no excuse for him to be close to her other than because he wants to.
“Yeah,” she sighs, but then she pulls her lips between her teeth. “No, actually, I’m terrified.”
Dropping his forehead onto hers, he smiles, not because he wants to but because he feels like he needs to be strong. That’s the least he can do for her. “It’ll be over before you know it.”
Y/N chuckles, “That doesn’t sound very reassuring.”
In fact, Dean has to chuckle himself, “Maybe I should have used better words, huh?”
“That’d be great, yeah.”
“You’ll be okay,” he breathes out in a whisper, and he doesn’t know if he wants to say the words to her or hear it for himself. It doesn’t matter, though. “I’ll be here, okay? You’ll go in there and come back to me.”
He doesn’t carefully choose his words as it’s not something he’s capable of right now and it might have come out wrong and he probably should be embarrassed to lay it out like that but it’s just the truth and he’s standing by it.
She nods her head, their forehead moving against each other. “You’ll be waiting?”
“Always.” He manages to croak out while simultaneously trying not to break apart before there’s a rap at the door frame.
“I’m sorry but we should get her moving,” the voice says. It sounds a lot like the young nurse who gave him her number. Her voice is a little stern, a little annoyed. He wonders who pissed in her cereal this morning and he almosts asks because he’s just really fucking pissed about the whole situation, but he knows better so he just continues to ignore everyone except the fragile girl before him.
Dean nods, “Right. Okay.” He moves his face up, nose brushing against her forehead until his lips meet her skin. He places a kiss there. And if he stays a little longer than necessary in order to breathe in her scent, nobody needs to know. Well, maybe someone did know because he’s absolutely sure now that it’s Carmen who clears her throat and Dean can’t do anything else than whisper. “Gotta let you go, Y/N.”
“Yeah,” she nods back as she brushes a stray tear away. He squeezes her hand one last time before reluctantly taking a step back because Carmen and another nurse are already by her side, shouldering him away rather aggressively.
*
They are told to sit and wait in this tiny room which contains about half a dozen chairs and a pot plant in the corner that’s surprisingly well maintained. A clock is hanging on the wall and the sound of the seconds tick by nervously. Dean wonders why they even bother. He tries to tune it out because it sure as hell is starting to drive him mad not even ten minutes into the wait.
Sammy is mindlessly thumbing away at his phone. It’s then that Dean remembers that it’s a Thursday, meaning Sam and Jess surely have something better to do than sitting here waiting.
“Why don’t you go to class?” He asks into the room, not addressing anyone in particular, “Y/N sure as hell wouldn’t want you guys to miss class because of her.” He’s met with glares, so Dean continues, “It’s what? About five or six hours until we know anything? No need for all of us to get crazy in this room.” He finishes his little speech with a shrug.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” Jess is the first one who speaks. She has her head on Sam’s shoulder and Dean can’t fathom how he landed such a beautiful girl who’s way above his league - even with a shaved head. Maybe, in another life, he’d be jealous, but not this one. No, in this one, he’s so fucking proud and happy for his brother, the emotions almost overflow and seep out of his eyes.
Sam agrees, and Dean’s momentarily stunned that his brother doesn’t put up more fight but he’s happy that they will leave. It’s awkward enough to be in his room with the excruciating wait but sharing this with people is even worse. Especially when Dean desperately wants to avoid the topic of re-enlisting and he sure knows that it will come up sooner or later but maybe he’ll be better prepared later. Much later. When he’s back for the break for example. He just really can’t be able to come up with something that he knows won’t make his brother mad, and having a mad Sam on his hand is the last thing he wants when he has to leave in two days as it will deter him from the real reason he’s here. He just wants to be here for Y/N. Everything else has to wait.
“Right, I can still catch the last class.” Sammy stands up on his feet and shit, did his brother get taller? Dean can’t remember that Sam’s ever been this tall. “We’ll be back and bring food, yeah?”
“Sounds awesome,” Dean answers while he tries to sound a little more enthusiastic than he feels, trying not to give away that food’s actually the last thing on his mind.
*
“You still okay?” A voice startles him and Dean opens his eyes to see the brunette nurse. He had them closed while he leaned his head against the wall in his sitting position. It’s has been two hours and it feels like fucking ten.
Carmen makes her way inside, a mug of something in her hand that smells like the best coffee in the world. From experience, it isn’t the best but it beats coffee at his base, so.
“Here,” she holds the mug out to him which Dean eagerly takes. He hasn’t been out of the room in hours.
“Thanks.”
The nurse sits down on the chair right next to him, not even asking if she’s allowed to sit, and it’s actually not a big deal but it’s something Dean’s not used to and something about it irks him, but he can’t really put a finger on. He’s really not in the mood for company, and maybe that’s the very reason why her presence rubs him the wrong way.
“She just went into surgery now,” Carmen says, leaning back too.
“Just now? After two fucking hours?” He clearly isn’t able to keep the irritation out of his voice, not that he’s been trying too hard, to be honest, and maybe, just maybe, he shouldn’t swear that often, but not swearing has never been his thing.
“They had to prepare her for the operation. It’s a whole procedure.”
Right now, he’s actually thankful the woman doesn’t throw fancy medical words around that he wouldn’t understand anyway.
Dean scoffs.
“She’ll be alright.” Carmen obviously tries to calm him down and it sounds a little robotic. He’s sure that she’s used to rattling those words down to comfort friends and families, but right now, it’s not really doing anything for him.
“You don’t know that.” He states.
The nurse doesn’t say anything after that, probably knowing that Dean isn’t taking bullshit. He continues to sip on his coffee while the clock ticks away and she’s still there sitting with him in silence.
It’s not entirely bad, Dean thinks. The silence is bearable but it’s definitely not as easing or comfortable as the silence he usually shares with Y/N and now he feels like a dick to even compare the two women. There’s really nothing to compare. Y/N practically has no competition.
“She’s more than family, right?” The brunette breaks the silence with the most awkward question known to man. It’s something Dean likes to avoid since he doesn’t even want to admit to himself what Y/N really is to him. “I mean, you wouldn’t get my number if your heart’s not in it, right?”
Ah, there’s the guilt again, hitting him square in the chest. How does one say that he only got her number because he was egged on to do it by the woman he really wants? Dean figures that there’s no way of telling that nicely, so he doesn’t. He realizes that he probably does win the first place in cowardice - if that’s really a thing.
Carmen is not that bad, Dean guesses after some careful deliberation. She’s his type, Y/N’s right about that, but also she’s not? Because right now his type of woman is undergoing fucking brain surgery and they might not even have a future together and maybe - just maybe - he’s better off if he at least going out for a drink with Carmen once he’s back from tour.
“Carmen,” he starts before he even knows where he’s going with it, and he feels like he needs a sip before continuing. Dean takes his time, placing the mug to his mouth, and swallows the bitter taste of coffee - or his own feelings. “She’s family. She’s like a sister to me,” Now, Dean doesn’t know if the words are said to Carmen or to himself. Probably both.
Beside him, the nurse nods her head, as if she understands, before she gets up and she’s now standing tall when Dean looks up to her. She smiles at him warmly. “You’ll be back in a month?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“Call me, yeah?”
“Definitely will.” He nods affirmatively.
“Right, I’ll update you when there’s news.” The woman strolls over to the door, sending him a last smile before she leaves.
Somehow, Dean can’t quite smile in return, but at least he gets a “Thanks” past his lips.
Thirteen
Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.
Summary: When Dean tells you that he’ll be home for Thanksgiving but doesn’t show, you don’t have much hope for Christmas. You fall into a depressive state of mind, but maybe you both have a way of suprising each other.
Square Filled: First Child (Fluff Bingo)
Square Filled: Coming Home for Christmas (Christmas Bingo)
A/N: This was written for @spnfluffbingo and @spnchristmasbingo. Please let me know what you think!
“You alright?” Sam asks you as you stare out of the window at the snow.
“Yeah,” you sigh.
“Hey, I know that you miss Dean but he would want you to have a good Christmas,” Sam tells you.
“I know,” you sigh as you gently rub a hand over your stomach. “It’s just that… Dean’s supposed to be here.”
“I know,” Sam frowns. “Mom and Dad will be happy to see you and that grandbaby.” You laugh a bit. “You’ve been pretty quiet ever since Dean left.”
You take a deep breath. “When I talked to him he told me that he’d be here for Thanksgiving.”
“I know,” Sam tells you.
“Then he wasn’t there and I haven’t heard anything else from him. That can’t be good, Sam.”
“(Y/N), we both know that sometimes things pop up that Dean can’t tell us about.”
“I know, but I…”
“You’re worrying too much,” Sam tells you as he pulls up into the driveway. “Promise me that you’ll try to enjoy yourself today.”
“Okay,” you breathe out. “I will try.”
“Good,” Sam smiles before he gets out of the car and walks over to open up your door. You swallow hard as you stare at the house and you can feel tears welling up in your eyes. “(Y/N)?”
“Dean was with me when we were here last,” you tell him.
“I know,” Sam frowns as he wraps an arm tightly around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “Take a deep breath. You’ve got a Christmas present in there somewhere.”
“I don’t care about that,” you tell Sam as you bring a hand up to wipe the tears out of your eyes. “Nothing matters if I don’t have my husband here with me.”
“Hey, you are not doing this by yourself,” Sam tells you softly. “I’m here and Mom and Dad will help you with whatever you need.”
“I know, and I appreciate that Sam but you know that it isn’t the same thing.”
“I know,” Sam sighs. “Okay, just so you know, I know exactly what you’re getting for Christmas so if you don’t walk into the house right now, then I’m going to take your present for myself.”
“Go ahead,” you tell Sam as you cross your arms.
“Don’t be like that,” Sam chuckles as he pulls you with him towards the front porch. You walk into the house and start shrugging your coat off.
“(Y/N),” Mary smiles as she walks over to pull you into a hug. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Well, Sam told me that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.”
“Maybe this will do you some good,” she smiles.
“Is Dad at the store?” Sam asks.
“He had to run out for something last minute,” Mary says as she gives Sam a look.
“Oh,” Sam nods. Mary begins to lead you into the living room, and yet not before you see the small smile that Sam’s got on his face.
“We were afraid that you wouldn’t want to join us,” Mary tells you as you both take a seat on the couch.
“Yeah,” you breathe out. “I’m sorry that I’ve been kind of distant.”
“I understand,” Mary tells you as she gives you a sad smile. “We all miss Dean but I can’t imagine how hard this has been on you. Especially now with the baby.”
You smile a bit as you bring a hand down to your stomach. “I think what’s bothering me the most is thinking that Dean might not be here when the baby’s born.”
“You’ll drive yourself crazy thinking like that.”
“I know,” you breathe out. “Dean told me before he had to go that he didn’t want me stressing out and overthinking but I… He doesn’t even know about the baby.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t find out until a few days after he left and I didn’t want to tell him over the phone,” you tell Mary as tears well up in your eyes once more.
“(Y/N), you have every right to want to tell Dean in person.”
“But what if he doesn’t know what he’s fighting for?” you ask her.
“Don’t you know by now that you’re enough to keep him fighting?”
You swallow hard and you nod your head a bit. “I guess so,” you breathe out and you smile when you feel a small kick against your hand. The front door opens up and John walks into the living room.
“(Y/N),” he smiles.
“Merry Christmas,” you tell him as you go to stand up off of the couch.
“Don’t get up,” John tells you as before he walks over to give you a hug. “How are you, kiddo?”
“I’m good,” you say and you try to give him a convincing smile.
“How is she actually doing?” John asks Sam as he turns to face him. “You’re the one who gets to see (Y/N) almost everyday.”
“She’s not been taking care of herself like she should,” Sam says as he smirks over at you.
“I’m literally right here,” you tell them.
“Alright,” Mary smiles as she stands up off of the couch. “We should eat before it gets cold.”
Sam reaches over to lay a hand onto your shoulder and he gives you a soft smile. “You sit and I’ll bring you a plate.”
“Sam, I am not sitting here in the living room eating by myself while the three of you sit and eat at the dining room table.”
“I’ll help you over there when I get your food,” he tells you.
“Help me over there?” you ask him. “Sam, I can still walk, you know.”
“Yes, I know,” he rolls his eyes. “Please let me help you.”
“Fine,” you sigh as you relax against the couch.
After everybody eats, Sam helps you up and over to the living room once more. You know what they’re going to do now. Usually, you love this part. With the boys arguing like little kids and Dean’s arm around you but now, you’re wanting to be anywhere but here.
“(Y/N),” Mary says as she hands you an envelope.
“Thanks,” you smile as you take it from her and sit it in your lap.
“You should open it,” Sam tells you.
“I will when I feel up to it,” you breathe out.
“Nobody’s moving a muscle until you open that,” John tells you.
“Seriously?” you sigh as you roll your eyes a bit. Sam moves his head to look over your shoulder as you open up the envelope and pull out a folded up piece of paper. “Oh,” you breathe out when you realize that it’s a letter from Dean.
“He sent it to me asking that I don’t give it to you until Christmas,” Sam tells you. “I didn’t read it.”
Tears well up in your eyes as you take in the words.
Sweetheart, I know that I promised you I’d be there at Thanksgiving. Something happened that I couldn’t talk about, and I wasn’t able to get to a phone. This is the first opportunity in days that I have had to sit down and write you. First off all you should know that I’m okay. I miss you more than anything but I’m physically okay. I’m going to make you a promise and this time, I’m going to keep it no matter what.
I’ll be home for Christmas.
You swallow hard past the lump in your throat as a few tears fall over your cheeks. You’re so focused on what the letter says that you don’t even hear the front door open. Your eyes slide shut as you bring your head up a bit trying to keep the tears from falling. When you open your eyes, your heart stops when you see who is standing there in the doorway. He’s wearing a big smile on his face and both of his arms are open wide.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
“Dean!” you holler as you jump up off of the couch before running over to him. Dean wraps both of his arms tightly around you before hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You let out a sob as you hide your face in his chest.
“It’s alright, darlin’,” Dean whispers as he brings a hand up to cup your cheek. “I’m here with you.”
“I missed you, Dean,” you choke out.
“Oh, I’ve missed you so much sweet girl,” Dean smiles before he leans in to press his lips firmly to yours. Dean pulls away from you, a soft expression settling over his face when he feels your stomach press into his. “Well, this is new,” Dean chuckles as he brings his free hand down to your stomach.
“I… I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” you breathe out. “I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything…”
“Oh, don’t apologize,” Dean smiles widely at you.
“That’s the fastest that she’s moved in weeks,” Sam laughs.
“Just shut up, Sammy,” you laugh as Dean kneels down in front of you before placing both of his hands onto either side of your belly.
“Hello in there,” Dean murmurs. “It’s Daddy.” He looks up at with tears in his eyes and you can practically feel the love radiating off of this man. “Do you know what…”
You know what Dean’s going to ask so you nod and anticipation fills Dean’s expression. “A boy.”
“A boy,” Dean breathes out. “Gosh, (Y/N), this is the most amazing thing that a man could walk in the door to.” Dean glances over his shoulder at Sam. “You’ve been taking care of them for me?”
“Of course,” Sam nods. “Although she’s been giving me a bit of trouble.”
“Only when you get too bossy for me.”
“Which is apparently every time that I open my mouth,” Sam teases.
“We’ll go in here in the other room so that the three of you can get a few minutes as a family,” Mary tells you as she motions for Sam and John to walk on out of the living room.
“Don’t start eating without me,” Dean says.
“We already did that,” you giggle a bit. Dean’s eyes widen.
“Don’t worry. There’s plenty of leftovers that should still be warm,” Mary tells him as she walks off.
“There’d better be pie!” Dean hollers over his shoulder before he turns his attention to your stomach once more. He presses a kiss to your bump and lets his eyes slide shut and you run your fingers gently through his hair. “You been good for Momma?”
“I haven’t had much trouble,” you tell Dean truthfully. “I skipped the morning sickness but I have been craving cheeseburgers like crazy.”
“That’s my boy,” Dean chuckles before his eyes meet yours once more. “Do you know when you’re supposed to have him?”
“I’m due in three weeks.”
Dean swallows hard. “I don’t know if I’ll be there for you but you should know that I want to be.”
“I know, Dean,” you breathe out as you give him a soft smile. Dean’s eyes widen a bit before he jumps up to his feet.
“Sweetheart, you should be sitting down right now.”
“Dean,” you giggle as he wraps an arm around your waist and leads you over to the couch.
“If you thought that Sammy was bad you haven’t seen nothing yet.”
“Oh, I believe that,” you laugh. Dean sits you down on the couch before plopping down beside of you. He reaches over to lay a hand onto your stomach and he looks you in the eyes.
“Gosh, (Y/N), you have absolutely no idea how much I’ve missed you.”
“I have a good idea if it’s anywhere as bad as I missed you, Dean,” you tell him softly. Dean leans his forehead over against yours, his nose bumping against yours.
“Hi,” Dean smiles.
“Hi,” you giggle as you feel the baby kick against his Daddy’s hand. Dean finally lets a few tears that he had desperately been holding onto go.
“Hey, little man,” Dean chokes out as he rubs his thumb over your stomach.
“I think that someone loves their Daddy,” you giggle.
“Not as much as I love them,” Dean chuckles. “I didn’t mean to scare you if I did.”
“Dean, it’s okay,” you breathe out as you bring a hand up to gently wipe his tears away as your own fall over your lashes and down your cheeks. “I understand that you can’t always keep your promises.”
“Honey, I shouldn’t make them.”
“Stop,” you tell him softly. “I know that you would have been here if you could. Hey, at least you kept your promise to me that was in that letter.” Dean chuckles a bit. “Have you and Sam been planning this for a while?” you ask him.
“A couple weeks,” Dean nods. “I sent him a letter too asking him to help me out with it but to keep it from you. I wanted it to be a surprise and then you wound up surprising me.”
“Well, we both got a good surprise then,” you smile. “So when me and Sam got here and Mary told us that John had to run out for something…”
“He was picking me up at the airport,” Dean nods. “He took me by the house so that I could shower and then I drove here. Thought that I was gonna get a speeding ticket because all I could think about was getting here to you, (Y/N).”
“Dean,” you laugh a bit. “I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetheart,” Dean whispers before he leans in to press his lips firmly to yours. “What do you say you and me go into the dining room before Sam eats all of my food?”
“Okay,” you laugh and you nod your head a bit at Dean. He jumps up off of the couch before reaching a hand out for you to take. You place your hand in Dean’s and it feels exactly like it did when you first starting dating. After all these years the butterflies are still there but now it’s not because you’re nervous. It’s because you know that no matter what, Dean is yours. Dean belongs to you now and you will never be able to wrap your head completely around it.
“Alright?” Dean asks you as he carefully pulls you up to your feet.
“Yeah,” you breathe out as you rub a hand over your stomach. “We’re good.”
Dean wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in tightly to him, pressing a kiss to your temple as he takes a deep breath to fight of all the tears once more.
“I love you so much, sweetheart, and our son too,” he whispers.
“We love you too, Dean,” you breathe out as you turn your head a bit to press your lips to his. “Merry Christmas.”
Dean smiles widely at you and his green eyes crinkle a bit at the corner. “Merry Christmas, darlin’.”
For this years reversebang my first piece of art where soldier!dean covered in blood. Originally I didn’t draw him in uniform, but after looking at him something in me just decided that it made sense to do so...
It was picked up by the wonderful heylittleangel who wrote this amazing story
Dean Winchester died as a war hero during his third tour overseas. He left Y/N behind, and she decides that she needs a change. She leaves Lawrence to work at Camp New Moon, where a mysterious visitor shows up almost five years after Dean first left for his tour.
Before Dean left for a six month tour with his army unit, there had been colour everywhere; in the greens of his uniform and the green of his eyes, of the bright yellow yolks of the eggs Dean knew how to do best, in the brilliant shine whenever he smiled and made everything else seem brighter.
Now, it all seems dull.
It's only been a few days and while he knows these will be the hardest, he wonders if the colour will ever come back into his life, he can't take this for six months.
Until Dean's first letter home arrives, written in his blocky handwriting on faint lined paper with a red margin drawn down the side, where there's little hearts doodled childishly in a red biro, and he reads the letter over and over again until their photos of them from the summer on a Californian beach regain their vibrancy and he remembers the bright blue water and the colourful beach huts and the bright green bucket they'd bought together for 10 cents .
For as long as he knows Dean is safe, colour will be there for him.
