spnluver - Tumblr blog

spnluver · 2 days

Text

The Ballad of a Winchester pt. 2

Summary: Dean catches his sister watching war videos, and asks why she’s doing it. She tells him the similarities she sees with him and the soldiers, and asks why he doesn’t expect the same from her.

A/N: I do not own Supernatural or any characters apart from Y/N Winchester, who is a character insert as Sam and Dean's younger sister. If any scenes seem new or unfamiliar, they are to fit her storyline. Also, in this universe, they stayed in the Kansas house, but still go to motels on out-of-state hunts.

Dean: 28, Y/N: 14

If there was one thing that Dean didn’t like bout his sister, it was that she was too smart for her own good. Often times, she would make connections that were far too mature for her age. This trait of hers was once again on display as Dean walked in to find her watching war documentaries. "Y/N, what are you doing?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing in concern.

She closed her laptop quickly, her face flushing red. “Homework,” she said.

“And that’s why you look guilty?” He asked questioningly, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against her doorway.

Y/N sighed, knowing she couldn’t keep anything from him. “Well, we are learning about World War Two in history this unit. And the teacher did show pictures and videos on the slides.”

Dean nodded, understanding her explanation but still feeling a sense of unease. "Y/N, you know you don't have to watch those videos, right? They can be pretty intense," he said, his voice filled with concern. He didn't want his little sister to be exposed to such harsh realities, not when he's been trying so hard to give her a normal life.

“It’s not during the wars,” She said honestly. Dean made his way to sit over at the edge of her bed, his eyes strict. “It’s just training.”

"Even so, those videos can be tough to watch," Dean pointed out, his concern evident in his tone. “Talk to me.”

Y/N sighed, turning to face him. “You never tell me anything,” she said choosing her words carefully. “I just... I see the similarities, Dean," Y/N admitted, her eyes meeting his. "How they're trained, how they're expected to fight... It's not much different from what we do. And I just... I want to understand why you don't want the same for me. Even your room is like a barracks," Y/N continued, her voice soft but determined. "You've always been a soldier, Dean. And I'm just trying to understand why you've fought so hard to keep me from being one too."

Dean, taken aback by her words, sighed heavily. "Y/N, being a soldier... it's not a choice I would ever want for you," he admitted, his voice filled with a mix of regret and protectiveness. "You deserve a chance at a normal life, something I never had. And I'll do everything in my power to make sure you get that chance."

“And when you talk to Dad, you always address him as 'Sir'. It's just... it all feels military-like. And not that I want to, but why don’t you make me call you that?” she asked. Now that she had Dean’s permission, all the questions she’s ever had poured out.

"Because I'm your brother, not your commanding officer," Dean responded, his tone gentle. "I don't want our relationship to be built on the same rigid structure that Dad enforced. You're my sister, Y/N, not a soldier under my command. I want you to feel comfortable with me, to see me as someone you can turn to, not just someone who gives orders. That's why I've always insisted that you call me Dean, not 'Sir'." Dean's words were filled with sincerity, a testament to his unwavering dedication to protect Y/N's innocence, despite the harsh realities of their world.

“But why does Dad expect it from you? He’s always harsher with you and Dad disowned me,” she said matter-of-factly.

"That's because Dad sees me as his soldier, as someone who's supposed to follow his orders without question," Dean explained, his voice filled with a mix of resentment and resignation. "He's always been harder on me because he expects more from me, expects me to be a certain way. But I don't want that for you, Y/N. I want you to have the freedom to be who you want to be, not what someone else expects you to be. Yes I’m strict with you. But I do it because I care about you. I want you to be safe, to have a chance at a life outside of this. I don't want you to be forced into a life of danger and uncertainty, like I was. I want you to know that you always have a choice, Y/N. And whatever you choose, I'll always be here to support you. Just keep it in the legal sphere of life.”

Y/N let out a small laugh with her brother’s attempt to lighten the mood. “I understand. Thank you,” she said.

With that, Dean smiled at his sister, his heart filled with a strange mix of pride and sadness. "Anytime, kiddo," he replied, ruffling her hair lightly. He then looked at her strictly. “Just promise me no more of this investigation crap okay?”

Y/N nodded, understanding the seriousness of his tone. "Okay, Dean. I promise," she responded, offering him a small smile. This marked a turning point in their relationship, a new understanding and respect for each other's roles and boundaries. Dean cupped her cheek gently, gave her a small, proud smile, and left her room, closing the door.

Y/N, left alone with her thoughts, couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and confusion. She was relieved that Dean cared for her, wanting to protect her from their harsh realities. But, she was also confused, grappling with the stark differences between her brother and father's expectations. She turned her attention back to her homework, her mind filled with a newfound understanding of her family's dynamics.

Later that evening, Dean came to tuck in his sister, knocking lightly on her door before entering. "Hey kiddo, time to turn in," he said, his voice soft and comforting. He checked under her bed and in her closet for monsters, a nightly ritual that always managed to bring a smile to Y/N's face, before tucking her in.

“Dean, I’m sorry I was snooping,” she said quietly. “I just wanted to know why you did those stuff.”

"It's okay, Y/N," Dean reassured her, his voice gentle. "I know you were just trying to understand. But remember, you can always come to me with your questions. I don’t want you to be exposed to things that could traumatize you.”

"Thank you, Dean," Y/N responded, her voice barely above a whisper. As Dean kissed her forehead and wished her goodnight, she felt a sense of warmth and security wash over her, a stark contrast to the harsh realities she had been grappling with. As she drifted off to sleep, she knew she was safe, protected by the unwavering love and dedication of her big brother.

Dean went back to his own room, he knew she was right. He looked around, knowing his room did indeed resemble a barracks. A single bed, a small dresser, his clothes neatly folded and arranged, his hunting gear stowed away in a trunk at the foot of the bed - it was all starkly utilitarian, a far cry from the warmth and comfort he tried to provide in Y/N's room. Even the day she was born, his mother made comments about his walls and bed, something Dean had dismissed at the time. Now, as he looked around, he couldn't help but understand what she meant. His room was a reflection of the life he had been forced into, a life he would do anything to protect Y/N from. He looked at the singular photo of his mother, one that looked like it came from the wallet of a man at war. There wasn’t even a frame. He sighed, placing it back on his nightstand, and went to sleep himself.

#dean winchester #sam and dean #sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #winchester sister #y/n reader #supernatural angst #john winchester hate club

11 notes · View notes

spnluver · 2 days

Text

The Ballad of a Winchester Pt. 1

Summary: The birth of Y/N Winchester, the younger sister of Sam and Dean.

Warnings: John Winchester, John Winchester's A+ Parenting

Dean, Sam, and John had come back to their Kansas home after a long hunt. However, there was a figure in the living room surrounded by two men with wings. That figure was Mary. Due to Dean not knowing who the woman was and not remembering how she looked, Dean instinctively stood in front of Sammy, Dean’s small knife clutched in his hands. The two men with wings laughed at his attempt, but Dean felt a hand grab his neck and pulled him back. John stood in front of him, and slapped Dean across the face. “Don’t you dare threaten your mother," John growled, his eyes glaring at Dean. Dean was taken aback, the realization that the woman was his mother washing over him like a tidal wave.

“She could be a demon!” Dean said fearfully, clutching his cheek and the knife.

"But she's not," John snapped back, his eyes never losing their intensity. "She's your mother, Dean. Show some respect." Dean was left in stunned silence, his world shifting beneath his feet.

Dean didn’t say anything, but lowered his knife, clutching it at his side just in case. John moved over to the men in wings. “Who are you and what do you want?”

One of the winged men stepped forward, his expression solemn. "We are angels, sent by the Almighty. We're here to bring back your daughter. But it has to be done with her being born correctly.”

John's face hardened, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. "What are you talking about?”

The winged man continued, "There was a mistake in the natural order. Y/N was supposed to be born to fulfill the prophecy, and Mary died too quickly. She was supposed to die after Y/N was born, not Sam.”

John’s heart sank at these words. "How can I trust you?" he demanded, his voice tight with fear. "How do I know you won't harm my family?" The angels remained silent, their expressions unreadable.

“John,” Mary said softly. It was as if a switch had clicked, and John's hostility melted away.

"Mary..." he breathed, his eyes filled with a mixture of disbelief and relief. The angels watched, their faces still unreadable, as the Winchester family faced the revelation of their disrupted destiny. Dean looked at the angels, his knife still in his hands. The angels looked back at Dean, and one of them said, "Do not be afraid, Dean. We do not wish to harm your family. We are only here to correct what has been disrupted." Dean didn’t loosen his grip on the knife, and instead, the angel had shared a knowing look with his fellow angel before turning back to John and Mary. "We will need your consent for the correction. Are you willing to trust us?" he asked, his voice echoing in the silent room.

“Prove to me you’re not demons or shapeshifters,” John said.

The angel nodded, extending a hand towards John. "Very well," he said. As he did, a brilliant light began to glow around him, and with a gentle touch, he healed a lingering injury on John's arm. The room fell into stunned silence as they watched, proving they were indeed celestial beings.

Dean knew better than to question anyone in this room, but Sam didn’t hold back. "But why us?" Sam asked, his voice trembling slightly. "Why Y/N?"

The angels simply glanced at each other before replying, "It is not ours to question the designs of the Almighty."

“The dude is real?” Sam asked in shock.

"Yes, Sam," one of the angels replied with a hint of amusement. "The 'dude' is very real. And he has plans for your sister Y/N, plans that require her to be born in the correct order. You have twenty-four hours with Mary. Then she has to be sent back. Mary has already complied with the choice, that’s why she was sent here.”

“Fine,” John said. “You have my consent.”

The angels nodded, a sense of finality settling in the room. "Thank you, John Winchester. We will return tomorrow," one of them said before they vanished, leaving the Winchesters alone with their thoughts and the weight of the impending changes.

John went to turn back to Mary, only for her to slap him across the face. “How dare you slap Dean!” she scolded, her voice filled with protectiveness and anger. "He's your son, John. You had no right!"

“I’m sorry, Mary,” John said dishonestly, but showing his expression and tone sincere. “I was just trying to protect you.”

Dean looked down, knowing his father was lying. At Sam’s age, he could already tell the difference between a sincere apology and a manipulative lie. His father's words were empty, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. “Dean,” Mary called. Dean’s head shot up, his mind still trying to process everything that had just been told to him. "Come here," she said gently. Dean hesitated, but eventually made his way over to Mary. She touched the spot where John had slapped him, her touch tender and soothing. “I know you have questions. Am I correct?”

“Yes, Mom,” Dean said, not knowing if she wanted to be addressed as Mom, or as Ma’am like his father was to be addressed as Sir. Dean still managed to be respectful though, not wanting to upset his father, not wanting his mother to witness the brutality that John could inflict.

"Good," Mary replied with a soft smile. "Don't hesitate to ask me anything, Dean. We have a lot to catch up on, and I want to answer all your questions." Dean nodded, feeling a sense of warmth and understanding he hadn't experienced in a long time.

Dean felt as though he could cry right then and there. He was always used to the beatings that John would give him, but the gentleness and warmth that Mary radiated was something he had always yearned for. The love of a mother was something he had been deprived of. However, it was stripped away from him yet again. “Dean,” John said coldly.

“Yes, Sir?” Dean said automatically, his stance changing from a relaxed, comfortable one to a more rigid and alert posture.

"Go to your room," John commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Sam can stay here for a little bit, but you go.”

“Yes, Sir,” Dean said with his usual obedience, and reluctantly went to his room. On his way there, he could hear Mary yell at John once again.

“You make him call you 'Sir' like he's some soldier, not your son!" Mary's words echoed down the hallway, her tone laced with hurt and disbelief. Dean paused for a moment, her words echoing in his ears before he continued to his room. He hated himself for not even pretending to call him Dad. For not willing to risk a beating the next day for not addressing his father as ‘Sir,’ but it was so ingrained in him, he couldn’t think twice. Dean lay on his bed, the events of the evening replaying in his mind. He traced his fingers over his cheek, the sting from his father's slap still fresh. The way his mother had defended him, the warmth in her eyes, it was all so surreal. But tomorrow, she would be gone again. Almost two hours later Sam had knocked on Dean’s door, checking in on him.

"Dean, you okay?" Sam asked softly, his eyes filled with concern. Dean offered a small nod, his heart still heavy with the day's revelations. The brothers shared a quiet moment, a mutual understanding passing between them in the dimly lit room.

“How was your talk with Mom?” Dean asked avoiding Sam’s question.

"It was... nice," Sam replied, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "She answered a lot of my questions, and she wanted to know more about us, about what we've been doing." He paused, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "She loves us, Dean. She really does."

Dean gave a small smile, comforted by Sam's words. He nodded, sighing deeply. "I know, Sammy. I know she does."

Sam spent the rest of the day talking about her, even if he only got to know her for two hours. “Are you gonna talk to her? She wants to talk to you.”

Deans sighed, envious of his brother’s time with their Mom. But he put on a brave, stoic face. “I want to,” he said quietly. “But it’s all up to Dad.”

Dean's face fell at the mention of their father. He knew John Winchester held the reins in their family, his word was law. Dean yearned for a chance to know Mary, to have a real conversation with his mother, but he also knew better than to go against his father's orders. Later that evening, Mary knocked on his door, which he left open. It was late, almost eleven. John didn’t care how late Dean stayed up, as long as he was alert and functioning enough for their hunts. Dean stayed up purposefully, in hopes that John would let him talk to his mother before she had to leave.

"Dean," she said softly, her eyes filled with warmth and understanding. "I know you didn't get a chance to talk earlier. Would you like to talk now?" Dean wanted to tell her the truth. That it was John who kept him from talking. But Dean knew better than to say anything that would paint his father in a negative light. Especially since she had scolded John twice already. "Yes, Ma'am," Dean replied quietly, welcoming the chance to finally get to know his mother.

“Don’t call me Ma’am,” Mary scolded. Dean nearly flinched at the idea of his mother scolding him.

"Sorry, Mom," he corrected, a soft smile spreading on his face as he addressed her with the title he'd longed to use. Mary returned his smile, her eyes filled with motherly love. She sat at the edge of Dean’s bed, frowning. “What’s wrong Mom?” he asked protectively.

“You’re bed is uncomfortable,” Mary said in a voice that was filled with worry.

"It's fine, Mom," Dean quickly reassured her, not wanting her to be concerned about his well-being. "I'm used to it." Mary's expression softened, but she didn't look entirely convinced. She then took one long look around his room.

"Where are all your belongings, Dean?" Mary asked, her eyes scanning the barren room. “Your books, comics, posters, CD’s? Sam was raving non-stop about Marvel comics.”

Dean gave a small, sad chuckle at the mention of Sam’s nerdiness and geekiness. "I don't have any, Mom," Dean admitted, a touch of sadness in his voice.

"But why not?" Mary asked, her voice filled with concern. Dean shrugged, trying to mask his disappointment. “You’re fourteen years old.”

“I’m just busy with school, and hunting,” Dean said, omitting most of the truth.

“Dean Michael Winchester, you do not lie to me,” Mary said strictly.

Dean flinched at his mother using his full name. Whenever his father said it, it meant a beating that would last him weeks on this bed. But then he remembered her warm and gentle nature, knowing he was safe if he told the truth. But he would only be safe for the remaining time she had left in their household. When she would be sent back, John would have control over him again.

"I... I don't have them," Dean confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Dad says they're distractions. That they’re a waste of time and I should be focusing on other things." His words hung in the air, a heavy silence settling in the room as Mary processed his confession.

Mary's expression was a mix of disbelief and sadness. "Then why does Sam have those things?”

“I…um…fought with Dad for them," Dean admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I didn't want Sam to miss out on having a normal childhood." His confession hung in the air, a testament to the sacrifices he'd made for his little brother.

Mary reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from Dean's face. "You're a good brother, Dean," she said softly, her voice choked with emotion. "And I'm so proud of you. But you’re a kid too.”

Dean couldn’t keep the tears in any longer. He cried and Mary pulled him into a comforting embrace, gently stroking his back as he let out the tears he had been holding in all his life. "It's okay, Dean," she whispered, her own tears falling onto his hair. "It's okay."

“I tried my best Mom,” he said through choked sobs. “I didn’t want to disappoint you. I wanted to keep Sammy safe, to give him a normal life. I wanted to be the son you'd be proud of." His voice was muffled against her shoulder, his tears soaking the fabric of her shirt.

Mary pulled back, cupping his tear-streaked face in her hands. "Dean," she said firmly, her gaze meeting his, "You have not disappointed me. Not one bit. You've done more than any child should have to. And I am so, so proud of you." Her words echoed in the quiet room, a comforting balm to Dean's aching heart. “But I don’t want to have to be proud of you for this. You should be living your childhood, not sacrificing it. You deserve to be happy and carefree too," she added, her voice filled with a motherly tenderness that Dean had been craving for years.

“I promise I’ll do the same for Y/N,” Dean said, avoiding her statement. “I'll take care of her, just like I did for Sam. I'll make sure she has a normal life too," Dean vowed, his determination shining in his eyes. Mary gave a nod of approval, her faith in Dean unwavering.

“Dean,” she said softly. “You need to promise me something else as well. Promise me you'll take care of yourself too. You're just as important as Sam and Y/N. You deserve a childhood too," she urged, her gaze filled with sincerity and concern.

Dean looked down, knowing he couldn’t avoid that statement any longer. “Mom,” he said tentatively. “I don't know if...if I can do that," Dean admitted, his voice trembling. "I want to, but...but I don't know how." There was a pause, a moment of vulnerability that Dean rarely allowed himself to show.

Mary looked sad for a moment, before nodding. “Then promise me you won’t do anything reckless and stupid.”

Dean gave a small laugh. “I promise.”

“Good boy,” Mary said softly. “I love you so much. And I’m so proud of you.”

As they shared a quiet moment, Dean felt a sense of peace he hadn't felt in a long time. He knew the road ahead would be tough and uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, he felt ready to face whatever came his way. He noticed his mother’s stomach growing by the hour, and realized his time with her was almost over. He stayed up all night, savoring the precious moments with his mother, their whispered conversations punctuated by bouts of laughter and tears. As dawn broke, the angels returned to take Mary back, their solemn expressions a stark contrast to the warmth that had filled the room just moments ago. Dean felt a pang of loss as he watched his mother disappear, the memory of her laughter and the warmth of her touch still fresh in his mind.

When Mary was sent back, and the angels vanished, John was angry. He immediately turned his wrath onto Dean, blaming him for the ordeal and accusing him of not being strong enough to protect the family. Dean looked down, avoiding his father’s unjust gaze. “You should’ve been the one they sent back, Dean. Not my wife!”

John's harsh words filled the room, echoing off the walls and stinging more than any physical blow ever could. Dean's gaze remained fixed on the floor, the weight of his father's disappointment hanging heavy in the air. His heart ached with the knowledge that he could never live up to his father's impossible expectations, but he swallowed down the hurt, his resolve strengthening. He would protect his family, no matter what. His sister, who was just born almost an hour ago, sat in a small basket, half-bundled up. She was screaming and crying and John, who was still angry, grabbed the basket harshly and walked over to the front door of the house, and pulled it open. Dean, not knowing what his intentions were, was frozen in fear. But seeing his father harshly put his sister down on the front porch, caused Dean to spring into action. He rushed forward, shielding his newborn sister from the cold night air. "Dad, what are you doing?!" Dean shouted, his voice filled with fear and anger.

John, his face contorted by rage, pointed a finger at Dean. "She's not one of us, Dean. She's a product of meddling angels - she doesn't belong here!" He spat out, his voice echoing in the silent night. But Dean, cradling his sister protectively, knew better than to let his father's anger dictate their fate.

“That’s not how you felt when Mom was here!” Dean yelled back.

John's expression faltered, taken aback by Dean's boldness. He then slapped Dean, who nearly stumbled back. Y/N only continued to cry louder, but Dean held onto her tightly. “Remember Dean,” John said coldly. “Now that your mother’s not here, I can do whatever I want." John's words hung heavily in the air, a chilling reminder of the power he held in their family. “Sam’s my favorite, remember?”

In the corner of Dean’s eye, he saw Sam look guilty, his gaze cast to the ground. “I’m not mad, Sammy. It’s better if you’re his favorite. It’s better if he doesn’t hurt you.” Dean said, his voice filled with a quiet resolve as he met Sam’s gaze, attempting to reassure him. “But you’re not abandoning my sister. I’ll raise her myself if that’s what I have to do.”

John’s face changed from anger to one that was thinking. “Fine,” John said, a sick sadistic smile on his face. “You’ll be the one to raise her, but you won’t get any help from me, or Sam. I won’t give you a day off. Sam will not change a diaper or do anything in her favor or yours. You’re on your own with her.”

Dean felt a chill run down his spine at his father's words, but he nodded, his determination unwavering. "I understand, Sir," he replied, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at his insides. He looked down at Y/N, her tiny face scrunched up in distress, and made a silent vow. He would protect her, just as he had always protected Sam, no matter what it took. Dean kept his eyes on her, and bounced her gently. As he soothed Y/N, he felt an overwhelming rush of protective love for his baby sister. Despite the harsh circumstances, he knew he would do whatever it took to give her a safe and happy life. He whispered soft reassurances to her, his voice a gentle lullaby in the cold, harsh night. Dean made sure the blanket was wrapped tightly around her, shielding her from the chilly wind. His mind was a whirlwind of fear and determination, but he knew one thing for certain - he would do everything in his power to protect Y/N, to give her the childhood she deserved. As he pulled the blanket up to her, he felt her small hand grasp his finger, her tiny fingers wrapping around his in a firm grip. Her eyes were wide and full of trust as they met his. In that moment, Dean felt a renewed sense of purpose. He knew he had a daunting task ahead of him, but he also knew he wouldn't let anything or anyone harm his little sister. He was her protector, her brother, and now, her guardian. “I’m right here, sweetheart,” Dean muttered slightly. "I won't let anything happen to you," he assured her, his voice filled with a fierce protectiveness. He gently rocked her in his arms, his heart swelling with love for his baby sister. Despite the challenges that lay ahead, Dean knew he would do everything in his power to keep her safe.

“Dean?” Sam had asked. Dean looked up forgetting that Sam and John had been standing there, watching the whole interaction unfold.

"Yeah, Sammy?" Dean responded, his voice softer than usual. His attention was still primarily on Y/N, but he turned slightly to acknowledge his younger brother.

“Can I hold her?” Sam asked curiously. As Dean nodded, and was about to give Y/N to Sam, John’s voice echoed through the whole house.

"No, Sam. You heard what I said," John's voice was stern, a clear reminder of the agreement they had just made.

“I wasn’t doing anything to help Dean,” Sam defended. Then Sam turned to face his brother. “No offense, Dean.”

"None taken, Sammy," Dean said, a small smile tugging at his lips. He saw the longing in Sam's eyes, and despite their father's rules.

“She’s my sister too, Dad,” Sam said defiantly.

John's gaze hardened, his grip tightening on the door handle. "I mean it, Sam. No exceptions." His voice echoed through the silent house, leaving no room for argument.

Sam swallowed hard, nodding reluctantly. "Yes, sir," he mumbled, his gaze dropping to the floor.

Dean watched the exchange, his heart heavy with the knowledge of the challenges they would all have to face. He placed a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder, understanding his brother’s disappointment, but said nothing to protest. Instead, Dean turned to his brother. “Look, it’s getting late. Get some sleep, okay?”

Sam gave a small nod, giving Y/N one last longing look before retreating to his room. Left alone, Dean settled down, his baby sister cradled securely in his arms. “Sir, he wasn’t doing anything to help me.”

"I know, Dean. But rules are rules," John replied, his voice devoid of empathy. He quickly retreated to his own room, leaving Dean alone with his sister and his thoughts.

With a deep sigh, Dean looked down at Y/N, her eyes wide and innocent. "Don't worry, sweetheart," he whispered gently, "your big brother's got you." He knew the road ahead would be tough, but he was determined to be the best brother he could be.

#dean winchester #sam and dean #sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #winchester sister #y/n reader #supernatural angst #john winchester hate club

11 notes · View notes

spnluver · 24 days

Text

To Become a Hunter

Summary: Y/N Winchester is the younger sister of Sam and Dean, and has been raised by her eldest brother Dean Winchester. Dean does everything in his power to make sure she has a somewhat normal childhood. Even if he cannot do that, he makes sure that she doesn’t have to witness some of the most brutal things he has during her childhood. Even if that means facing the wrath of his father.

Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural or any characters apart from Y/N Winchester, the younger sister of Sam and Dean. Any scene that seems altered or completely new is to fit Y/N's storyline.

Warnings: mild mentions and descriptions of abuse, John Winchester

Dean: 20, Y/N: 6

Dean went back to the motel one day to see his little sister with a tear streaked face, and his father wearing an angry one. He scooped her up and placed her on his lap, hugging her tightly. “What happened kiddo?” he asked gently.

“Is it true?” she asked, her voice shaking.

"Is what true, sweetheart?" Dean inquired with a furrowed brow, concern lacing his voice as he held her a little tighter.

“That monsters are real?” she whispered, her big eyes filled with fear as she looked up at him. “That you kill them?”

Dean paused for a moment before giving her a gentle smile, "Well, kiddo, there are monsters out there. But don't worry, your big brother's here to protect you from them. And yes, sometimes, I have to fight them off." She buried her face into his chest, and Dean looked at his father. “You told her?”

His father just shrugged, not meeting his eyes. Dean's heart sank as he held his little sister closer, promising himself that he'd shield Y/N from the harsh reality of their world for as long as he could. “She needed to learn,” John said.

“She’s six,” Dean said sternly.

“You knew starting at four,” John replied. “What’s so different with her?”

“I was forced to. I didn’t have a choice. But she does," Dean retorted, his gaze hardening as he looked at his father.

“Are you really challenging me Dean?” John asked his voice getting low. “Because remember your place.”

“She’s a child,” Dean replied again. “She shouldn't have to worry about monsters and fighting, she should be worrying about what cartoon to watch or what toy to play with." His voice was firm, a clear sign that he wasn't backing down this time. "And I'll do whatever it takes to make sure she gets that," Dean added, his voice steady and determined. "Even if it means standing up to you, Dad." His grip on Y/N tightened protectively as he met his father's gaze unflinchingly.

“Let’s go for a drive, Dean,” John said coldly.

Dean’s eyes widened in fear, but he knew that there was no backing down now. And he wouldn’t back down anyway. He knew what was at stake - the innocence and childhood of his little sister. As he rose from the couch, he gently nudged Y/N, "Hey, kiddo. I'll be back soon, okay? Just stay here. I promise I’ll explain everything to you when we get back.” Y/N nodded and went over to the couch, even though she was anything but fine. Dean followed his father out the front door. The ride was silent, and when John found a secluded spot, he parked the car. Dean got out of the car, waiting for his father to do the same, and when John stood in front of him, he braced himself for John’s fist to connect with his face.

John's punch landed, but Dean stood his ground, not allowing the pain to show on his face. He spat out blood, then looked up at his father, his resolve unshaken. "Y/N deserves a childhood, Dad. I won't let you or anyone else take that away from her," he said, his voice steady despite the throbbing pain in his cheek.

He punched again, and when he punched Dean to the ground, he took off his belt, beginning to whip him as punishment for his defiance. But no matter how much it hurt, Dean refused to back down, remaining resolute in his decision to protect Y/N's innocence at all costs. The beating continued until John had exhausted himself. As he finally walked away, leaving Dean alone and bruised on the ground, Dean's mind was filled not with the physical pain he was enduring, but with the vow he had made to himself. He would protect Y/N, no matter the cost. Dean took his time, but not too long to get himself back up, and into the car. John threw a spare shirt at Dean, ordering him to change so Y/N wouldn’t see. Dean didn’t call out his father’s hypocrisy, and did as he was told. When they got to the motel, before John could exit the car, Dean said, “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Y/N safe and give her a normal life. I don’t care how many beatings I have to take, I’ll do it.”

John looked at Dean, his gaze that of an Alpha wolf, intimidating his pack. “You better remember your words, Dean," John said, his voice icy, "because I won't hesitate to remind you of them." Despite the threat in his father's words, Dean only nodded, the determination in his eyes unwavering.

With that, Dean got out of the car, his body aching but managed his casual look. He walked back into the motel room, his gaze immediately finding Y/N. She rushed to him, wrapping her little arms around him tightly. He winced slightly at the contact, but quickly masked it with a reassuring smile. "It's okay, kiddo," he murmured, ruffling her hair gently. "Your big brother's got you."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes still filled with fear, but also a glimmer of trust. "Promise?" she asked quietly.

"Promise," Dean replied, holding her a little tighter. He wasn't just promising to protect her from monsters. He was promising to protect her from their world, their reality, as long as he possibly could.

+++

Dean: 24, Y/N: 10

In the years that followed, Dean remained true to his promise. Despite the inevitable dangers that came their way, he always put Y/N's safety and wellbeing first, shielding her from the harsh realities of their world for as long as he could. One day however, he found John screaming at her, as she cowered away into the corner of the room. Dean instantly stepped in, positioning himself between Y/N and John, his protective instinct kicking in. "Enough, Dad!" he demanded, his eyes flashing with defiance. Dean felt a hand collide with his cheek, and heard his sister gasp.

“I’m okay, Y/N,” Dean lied. He looked back at his father. “What happened?”

“She failed at shooting a gun,” John said angrily. “More than that, she almost shot me with it. She threw it on the ground and it went off.”

“What was she doing holding a gun?!” he yelled. He got slapped again before John answered.

“I was training her. Something you still failed to do even though I ORDERED YOU TO DO SO!” he yelled.

"I won't let her be a part of this, Dad," Dean retorted, his voice filled with determination. "She's still a kid. She doesn't need to know how to shoot a gun. She needs to know how to be a kid." Despite the sting of the slap still lingering on his cheek, Dean stood his ground, his resolve unshaken.

“I gave you an order,” John said, his voice dangerously low. “And you disobeyed it.”

"And I'll do it again, Dad," Dean replied defiantly. "If it means keeping Y/N safe and out of this life, I'll disobey every order you give." His voice was steady, every word echoing his unwavering determination.

John glared at him, then her. “You see what you’ve done to my son! You've turned him against me," he accused, his voice filled with a bitter resentment. "And for what? For a childhood that you'll never have?" His gaze was hard as it bore into Y/N, who was still cowering behind Dean. “You made him weak!”

“ENOUGH!” Dean yelled. “She did not make me weak. I’m protecting her. And if standing up for my sister makes me weak, then so be it," Dean declared, his voice echoing with conviction. "I will always choose to protect her, no matter what you say, Dad." His stance was firm, and his gaze never wavered from his father's.

“You’ll wish you weee never born, Dean,” John said. “Trust me on this.”

Dean, however, remained unfazed by his father's threat. "I'm not afraid of you, Dad," he replied, his voice steady. "Not anymore.”

John stepped closer. “We’ll see about that when you get the punishment you deserve for disobeying me," John threatened, his voice filled with a chilling promise. But Dean was resolved, ready to face whatever came his way, as long as it meant keeping Y/N safe.

John stormed out of the room, leaving Dean and Y/N alone. Dean turned to Y/N, his features softening as he knelt down to her level. "It's okay, Y/N," he reassured her, his voice gentle. "I won't let anything happen to you. I promise.” He held out a hand to help her up, and she hesitantly took it, allowing him to pull her into a comforting hug.

“I trust you,” She said after some time, mumbling into his shirt.

“That’s my girl,” Dean said. He pulled away from the hug, and looked at her. “Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”

Y/N shook her head, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. "I'm okay, Dean," she replied, her voice shaky but audible. "I just... I was scared." She looked up at him, her eyes filled with fear and uncertainty. He cupped her cheek gently.

“As long as I’m around,” Dean said. “Nothing bad will ever happen to you.”

Y/N gave him a small, hesitant smile. "I know, Dean," she replied softly. "I believe you." With that, she wrapped her arms around him again, holding onto him tightly. Then she remembered what their father had said. “Are you going to get punished?”

Dean sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Don't worry about me, kiddo," he assured her. "Whatever happens, I can handle it. Just remember, nothing's more important than keeping you safe."

“But who’s gonna keep you safe?” she asked as he hugged her tightly.

Dean let out a sad, soft smile. “I'll be okay, Y/N," he promised, his voice filled with a mixture of assurance and tenderness. "Your big brother's tough, remember?" With that, he ruffled her hair affectionately, hoping to ease her worries.

“But —” she tried. Dean interrupted her.

"No buts, kiddo," he cut her off gently, his voice firm yet comforting. "Trust me, okay? I can take care of myself. You just focus on being a kid. That's your job." He gave her a reassuring smile, hoping to ease her worries.

“Okay,” she said after some hesitation.

With that, Dean gently nudged her towards the couch, encouraging her to relax and watch some TV while he began preparing dinner, doing his best to restore normalcy and assure Y/N that everything would be okay.

+++

Dean: 30, Sam: 26, Y/N: 16

“You are not walking away from me!” Dean yelled after Y/N as she walked down the stairs, and into the Bunker’s library.

“Can you at least let me go on a salt and burn, or something!” Y/N yelled.

“No,” Dean said strictly. They met their brother, Sam at one of the tables, who looked up from his lore books. “I’ve already told you no. You’re not doing anything related to hunting!”

"Dean, I'm not a kid anymore. I can handle myself," Y/N argued, her gaze unwavering as she met Dean's stern expression.

“You are sixteen! Six. Teen. A teen,” Dean answered. “You are still a kid! And as long as I'm around, you're not going to be thrown into this life," Dean continued, his voice firm and resolute. "I promised to give you a normal life, Y/N, and I intend to keep that promise, no matter what."

“That was when Dad was alive!” Y/N said. “And when you were trying to make a point!”

"And that doesn't change anything," Dean retorted. "Dad's gone but my promise to keep you safe still stands. You're not a hunter, Y/N, and I'm not going to let you become one."

“Well, what about —” Sam tried.

“STAY OUT OF IT!” Both siblings yelled at him.

Sam raised his hands defensively, deciding it was best to stay out of their argument. "Alright, alright," he said, retreating back to his desk. Meanwhile, Dean and Y/N continued their heated conversation, neither willing to back down.

“Why do you want to hunt so bad?!” Dean yelled. “Huh! Why all of a sudden?!”

"Because I want to help! I want to do something more than just sit around and read lore all day," Y/N retorted, her eyes filled with frustration and determination as she met Dean's gaze. "I want to fight, Dean. Like you and Sam."

“No,” Dean said.

“I thought you said I had a choice!” Y/N yelled. “This is mine!”

"Your choice is to have a normal life, Y/N, not to throw yourself into danger," Dean retorted, his voice shaking with a mix of anger and fear. "I won't let you risk your life on some misguided desire to be a hunter."

“You’re misguided!” Y/N retorted.

“Yeah, nice middle school comeback Y/N,” Dean said with an eye roll.

Just as Y/N was about to retort, Sam interjected, "Guys, can we please calm down and talk about this rationally?" But his attempt at mediation was met with glares from both Dean and Y/N.

“Alright you want a comeback Dean?!” Y/N said not thinking. “You’re not Dad. And you’re not my dad. So shut up!”

The words hit Dean harder than any punch. His face went pale, his eyes filled with hurt. "Y/N..." he started, his voice barely a whisper. But Y/N didn't wait for him to finish, she stormed out of the room, leaving a stunned Dean and Sam behind.

Dean stood there, torn between anger and pain. He wanted to run after Y/N, to make her understand why he was so protective, but he just couldn't find the strength to move. Sam gave him a sympathetic look, but Dean simply shook his head, silently asking his brother to give him a moment alone. Sam left the room, leaving Dean alone in the library. As the silence stretched on, Dean sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. He stood there for a while, trying to process Y/N's words. He knew she was growing up, that she wanted to be part of the fight, but he couldn't help the instinctual fear that gripped him at the thought. He loved her too much to risk her life, even if that meant being the bad guy in her eyes. He gripped onto the edges of the desk, his knuckles turning white. He grabbed a lamp and threw it against the wall, causing the bulb to break and the light to go out. He sank onto a chair, his head in his hands. The weight of Y/N's words echoed in his mind. He was doing everything he could to protect her, but in her eyes, he was just trying to control her. The realization stung. He had become his father, but instead of forcing the world of hunting on her, he was forcing a normal life onto her. He was so focused on shielding her from the dangers of their world, he didn't realize that he may be stifling her, not allowing her to make her own choices. He was left with a heavy heart, questioning if he was truly doing the right thing. “What do I do now, Mom?” he muttered to himself. The promise he made to his mother, of keeping her safe sixteen years ago, and the promise he made to his sister, ten years ago lingered in his mind. He was torn between honoring these promises and respecting Y/N's growing independence. As he sat there in the dimly lit room, Dean Winchester, the fearless hunter, felt more lost than ever. Soon he heard footsteps, and saw Y/N with a tear-streaked face.

"I'm sorry, Dean," she whispered, her voice shaky. "I didn't mean what I said... You're not like Dad. You've always been there for me. I just... I just want to help, too." She looked at him, her eyes filled with regret and sadness.

“I think that’s the world’s fastest record of you trying to apologize to me,” Dean said lightly, trying to lighten the mood even though he was still trying to process what she just said.

Y/N let out a small, soft smile. “I really am sorry Dean,” she said at the end of the room.

Dean nodded slowly, getting up from the chair and making his way to her. He pulled her into a hug, holding her close. "I know, kiddo," he said softly. "I know." He sighed, realizing that maybe there was a middle ground they could find, a balance between keeping her safe and not stifling her independence. She cried into his chest, and he held her tighter, comforting her as she let out her emotions. "We'll figure this out, Y/N," he promised, his voice filled with determination and resolve. "We'll find a way to make this work."

After a moment, he pulled back and wiped her tears away, giving her a gentle smile. "And hey, maybe we can start with some basic self-defense training. No hunting, just... learning to protect yourself, alright?"

“I don’t feel like I deserve it though,” Y/N said honestly. “After what I said to you, I just…”

"Everyone makes mistakes, Y/N. And we all say things we don’t mean sometimes," Dean reassured her, his voice gentle. "What's important is that we learn from them and try to make things right. And I think starting with self-defense training is a good step towards that." He gave her a small, encouraging smile, hoping to lift her spirits.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of regret and hope. "Okay, Dean," she agreed, nodding. "I'd like that." This marked a new chapter in their relationship, one filled with understanding and compromise.

#dean winchester #sam and dean #sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #winchester sister #y/n reader #supernatural angst #john winchester hate club

41 notes · View notes

spnluver · 25 days

Text

Never Was

Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural or any characters. If a scene is altered or completely brand new, it is to fit the storyline of Y/N Winchester, Sam and Dean's little sister.

Dean: 35, Sam: 31, Y/N 23

“I may be your mother,” Mary said strictly. “But I am not just a Mom. And you are not a child.”

“I never was,” Dean forced out. Y/N looked up at her eldest brother as he said those words. She had never known much about his childhood, since she wasn’t born until he was fifteen. She looked back at Mary, and then at the floor. Dean’s hand was gripping the back of Y/N's chair as he spoke, and her other brother, Sam, was sitting next to her.

Mary looked like she had been slapped as he spoke, but her stern gaze lingered. “I’ve been playing thirty years of catch-up here,” Mary defended.

“And we’re not?” Dean asked, pointing to his younger siblings. Y/N shifted uncomfortably in her seat, wishing she could be anywhere but here. This was worse than any fight between their father and Dean.

"Mom, we've all lost years," Sam finally broke his silence, his voice soft but steady. "And we've all made sacrifices. It's not just about catch-up."

“I want to live my life outside of being just your Mom,” Mary said. "I want to be someone, not just someone's mother. I hope you can understand that," she finished, her voice trembling slightly as she held Dean's gaze.

“This isn’t simply moving out of the house,” Dean continued. “This isn’t moving in with a boyfriend, or having a one-night stand wounding up with another kid. You’re working with our enemies.”

Y/N could feel the room's temperature drop at Dean's words. The silence that followed was deafening, the tension palpable. She felt Sam stiffen next to her, his gaze locked on their mother. “They have the same intentions the three of you do,” Mary said.

"But they're not us, Mom," Sam said. "And they're not family. We are."

“You want to work with them?” Dean asked, his tone changing. “You want to do all of that, well then there’s the door Mary.” He left the siblings alone as he walked out of the room.

Y/N watched him leave, her heart aching for her family. She glanced at Sam, then at Mary, her young eyes filled with confusion and hurt. "I think... I think I need some air," Sam mumbled, excusing himself and following Dean out.

Y/N didn’t know how to react. She didn’t want to abandon her mother, but she also didn’t want to feel like she was betraying Dean, so she just sat at her chair, and looked at Mary. “You understand right?” Mary asked her.

“I understand you wanting to be more than just a Mom,” Y/N replied carefully. “But out of all people why the British Men of Letters?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of betrayal. Mary looked at her daughter, her eyes filled with a mixture of regret and determination, but she didn't answer. “Can you at least try to talk to Dean?” Mary pleaded. “I know he listens to you.”

“You want to use me to convince Dean why you’re — and I’m not saying you are — right?” she asked with disbelief.

"I just need him to listen," Mary said, her voice soft and desperate. "And I think you could help with that."

“He’ll know that it was you, Mom,” Y/N replied. “He’ll know that you sent me.”

"And maybe that will make him listen," Mary said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please, Y/N, we're family. We need to stick together, even when it's hard."

Y/N raised her eyebrow at her. “It’s hard because you made it hard. You chose them, not us.”

With that, she left Mary in the library, following Dean’s trail to his room, and knocked on his door. He didn’t answer, but it wasn’t a no. She pushed the door open gently, and found Dean laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He looked at her, then laid his head back down, patting a spot next to him, and scooted over to the left. She laid down next to him after closing the door. “Mom send you over?” Dean asked.

Y/N chuckled slightly. “She tried to,” she admitted. “But I came here because I wanted to. Not because of Mom.”

Dean pet her head slightly. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t mean to say this to pressure you. But you’re the only person who’s never betrayed me, Y/N," Dean continued, his voice barely audible. "And I don't know what I'd do if you ever did."

Y/N knew Dean meant well. And she also knew that Sam has betrayed Dean in the past. So to hear him say those words was not only heartbreaking, but a relief to herself. It made her feel appreciated and important. She knew her relationship with Dean was special, and she would do everything in her power to preserve it. "I mean you did raise me," Y/N replied, her voice soft but firm. "I won't betray you, Dean. Not now, not ever."

“I raised Sam too,” Dean said sadly.

"But Sam and I, we're different," Y/N responded quietly, reaching out to squeeze Dean's hand. "And you know that. I promise, Dean, I'm not going anywhere."

“You’re a good kid, Y/N," Dean replied, squeezing her hand back. "And I'm grateful for you every single day."

Y/N smiled softly at his words. She always felt comforted by Dean's reassurances. "I'm grateful for you too, Dean," she whispered back, her voice filled with sincerity. "Always."

Y/N snuggled closer to Dean, and he wrapped a protective arm around her, rubbing her temple with his thumb gently. She felt safe in his embrace, knowing that no matter what came their way, they would always have each other. "Sleep tight, kiddo," Dean murmured, his voice soothing in the quiet room.

"I'm 23, Dean," she said.

"You're still my little sister," Dean replied.

With a soft sigh, she closed her eyes and let the rhythm of his heartbeat lull her to sleep. Dean stayed awake, continuing to stare at the ceiling. He couldn't shake off the disappointment and betrayal he felt. But as he looked at Y/N, peaceful and trusting, he knew he had to stay strong for her. Even if his own world was crumbling, he would keep hers intact. If anything, she deserved the stability and love he was able to provide. As the night grew darker, Dean promised himself to protect her from the pain, from the betrayals, and from the harsh realities of their lives, as long as he was able to do so. He meant what he said. She’s never betrayed him, never failed him. He wrapped his arm tighter around her. A silent vow echoed in the room - he would never let her down, just as she had never let him down.

#dean winchester #sam and dean #sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #winchester sister #y/n reader #supernatural angst

51 notes · View notes

spnluver · 27 days

Text

The Drunk Confession

Summary: Y/N Winchester catches her older brother Dean drunk in the kitchen of the bunker one night when she studies for exams. She tries to get him back to bed, only to hear a confession that breaks the bridge between them.

Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural or any canon events to the show. I only own Y/N Winchester and any storylines that seem altered or brand new to fit her story line.

Y/N went to the kitchen, turning on the light and brewing a new cup of coffee. While waiting for it to brew, she went to lean back against the counter, and almost screamed when she saw Dean. Bottles surrounded him, and he had one in his hand. He squinted against the light, his eyes adjusting. “Dean?” she asked quietly. “What are you doing sitting in the dark?”

Dean chuckled dryly, "Just contemplating, sweetheart," he slurred, words barely coherent. "Didn't mean to scare ya," he added, attempting a lopsided smile.

“Well, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” she said sitting across from him.

"Sorry about that," Dean replied, his voice heavy with an emotion Y/N couldn't quite place. He took another swig from the bottle, his gaze fixed on the dark liquid.

“What’s wrong?” she asked him, knowing this was no ordinary day of drinking for him.

“Nothing, get your coffee and continue whatever you were doing,” Dean slurred. She had to listen carefully to understand his words.

“Dean…” she said. “You always make me tell you about my problems. So I’ll keep talking until you tell me.”

“I failed you,” he grumbled, taking another sip of his beer.

Y/N froze, the words hitting her like a ton of bricks. "What do you mean, Dean?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You were supposed to want to leave,” Dean replied. “Live a life. Not this. I thought I was protecting you, but I've just dragged you deeper into this world," he continued, his voice barely audible. "And I can't help but feel responsible for that."

“You weren’t perfect,” Y/N said admittedly. “But you did your best.”

“That’s what I said about Dad,” Dean replied.

“You’re not Dad,” she said truthfully.

"But I've made the same mistakes," Dean admitted, his voice choked with regret. "And I can't help but think I've failed you in the same way he failed us."

“C’mon,” she said dragging him up. “Let’s get you to bed, you can rant to me tomorrow.”

"Y/N, I'm sorry," Dean mumbled, a tear streaking down his face as she helped him out of the kitchen. Her heart clenched at the sight, but she simply nodded, promising herself that they would address this tomorrow, in the light of day.

“Rant to me tomorrow,” she said again as she pulled him across the hallway and into his room. She put him on his bed, face down and took off his shoes.

“Now you’re taking care of me,” Dean slurred. “I’m pathetic.”

"No, you're not," Y/N said softly, covering him with a blanket. “You’re drunk. Not pathetic.”

"You've always been there for me," she added, sitting on the edge of his bed. "Now it's my turn to be there for you. Go to bed.”

Y/N turned off the light, and let him sleep after learning that he was fine as he was, feeling his confession like a punch in the gut. As Y/N exited the room, leaving her brother to his much-needed rest, she couldn't help but feel a wave of sadness and concern for him. His confession had revealed a side of Dean she had never seen before, a side burdened by guilt and regret. She also couldn’t help but feel offended. What she didn't know was how to address it, how to confront the guilt and regret that was so clearly eating away at him. But she knew one thing - if she brought it up with him the next morning, he would be his usual dismissive self. She went to her room, forgetting her coffee, and went to bed.

The next morning, she met Dean burying himself in lore, wearing sunglasses. “Bad hangover?” she asked from behind him.

"The worst," he grumbled, not looking up from his book.

“Dean —” she said carefully. But he interrupted her.

"Y/N, let's not do this now," he said, his voice a low warning. "I'm not in the mood for a heart-to-heart."

“But what you told me —” she tried again.

"Y/N, whatever I said last night, let's just forget it," he interrupted, his tone firm. "I was drunk, and people say stupid things when they're drunk."

“But —”

Dean slammed his book closed, stood up, and towered her. “I said that’s enough,” he replied strictly, his eyes flashing a serious warning. Y/N flinched backwards, the harshness of his tone catching her off guard.

“You told me you ‘failed me,’” she said softly. “How do you expect me to react?”

Dean was silent for a long moment, his gaze hard. "I don't expect anything," he finally said, his voice gruff. "I just want you to forget it, Y/N. Can we please just forget it?" She looked at him as he continued to tower over her, his glare hardening. Y/N backed down, nodding slowly. He sat back down, continuing to flip through the pages of his books. Y/N left him alone in the room, her heart heavy with the weight of their conversation. She knew this wasn't something she could just forget, but for now, she would let Dean have his way. It was clear he wasn't ready to confront his feelings, and she couldn't force him to.

It was a few days later, and Y/N and Dean’s relationship had grown somewhat strained. The air was filled with unspoken words and a tension that was hard to ignore. Despite this, they continued to hunt together and live their lives, hoping that time would heal the wound that Dean's confession had opened. Guilt had consumed Dean, hating how he let himself go. Confusion, and a little bit of anger had consumed Y/N, feeling worried that Dean had kept these feelings from her for so long. They both knew they needed to talk about it eventually, but for now, they let silence do the talking, each lost in their own thoughts and feelings.

She knocked on Dean’s bedroom door, "Dean, can we talk?" she said softly, breaking the silence that had been lingering between them for days.

There was a pause before the door creaked open. "Sure, Y/N," Dean replied, his voice softer than it had been for days. "Come in."

Y/N stepped in cautiously, the heavy air in the room almost palpable. "I know you said to forget it," she began, her voice steady, "but we can't just ignore what's been said, Dean. You told me that you ‘failed me.’”

"And it's not true," she added with a determined look in her eyes. "You haven't failed me, Dean. You did the best you could, given the circumstances.”

“Well that’s what I said about Dad,” Dean said his tone starting to get dismissive. “And you know what he did to us. But —”

"Dean, you're not Dad," Y/N interrupted, her voice firm but gentle. "You've made mistakes, sure, but so has everyone. You've always protected me, fought for me. That's not failure, Dean.”

“Then why are you here, stuck in this life with me?" Dean asked, his voice filled with regret. "I was supposed to protect you from this. Instead, I've pulled you into it."

“I chose to be here, Dean!" Y/N said firmly.

“And that’s the problem, kid,” Dean said, his voice starting to grow louder again. “You should have wanted to leave!”

“Why?!” she yelled back.

"Because this life, it's not for you! It's dangerous, and you deserve better," Dean argued, his voice echoing in the room.

“But it’s my choice!” she said. “I’m still in school, I’m still trying to be normal. Why can’t I hunt too?”

"Because this isn't a game, Y/N! This is real life, and in this life, people get hurt," Dean retorted, his frustration evident. "I don't want that for you. I don't want you to get hurt. I was forced into this life. You had a choice that I gave you! I should’ve done better.”

"But that's just it, Dean," Y/N countered, "I made my choice. And it was to stay and fight, just like you. It doesn't mean you've failed me. It means you've taught me to stand up for what I believe in, to fight for those I love. The way I see it, you've succeeded."

“Well you shouldn't see it that way," Dean argued back, his tone softening. "You should see it as a mistake, a path you shouldn't have taken. But you're too stubborn, just like me." He let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

“What do I have to do to show you that you didn’t fail me?” Y/N asked sincerely. “Besides the obvious.”

Dean looked at her, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions. "I don't know, kid," he confessed, his voice strained. "I really don't know."

Dean’s words felt like a punch to her gut, revealing the depth of his guilt and self-blame. They hung in the air between them, a painful reminder of the emotional turmoil he was going through. “If I don’t hunt ever again, will you still feel that way?” she asked shyly.

“I don’t want you to do me any favors,” Dean said sternly.

“Well then what do you want me to do?” she asked begging him.

"I want you to live your life, Y/N," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want you to be safe, and happy, and free from all this. But I also know you're stubborn, and you won't just walk away. So, just...just promise me you'll be careful, alright?"

“I promise,” she said suddenly feeling guilty. She went to her room afterwards, and felt herself start to cry. She felt a wave of guilt wash over her, realizing the depth of Dean's worry and regret. She knew she had a lot to think about and decisions to make. For now, she just needed to be alone and process everything that had happened. She didn’t just want to do Dean any favors. However, she remembered the loneliness she felt without Dean when he was out on hunts. She remembered the feeling of potential abandonment when Dean was gone on hunts for weeks at a time, especially around the time Sam left for college.

She stared at her desk, cluttered with schoolwork, and then stared at her supernatural board, which contained different pictures and cases of past supernatural events. She looked at it, and felt mocked. The life that Dean wanted for her, and the life she wanted as a hunter. It was a stark reminder of the crossroads she was at - a normal life filled with homework, exams and college applications, versus a life filled with monsters, fights and danger. The contrast couldn't be more clear, and Y/N knew that she had a difficult decision to make. But for now, she simply wiped her tears, promising herself that she would figure everything out in due time.

Almost a week later, she looked into colleges, going through some in state and out of state, looking for scholarships. She made a new board, one that was cluttered with college campus maps and pictures, pro and con lists, and potential scholarship successes. Dean went into her room one day, and saw the new addition. "Y/N, what's all this?" he asked, his eyes scanning over the colleges and scholarships on the board. His eyes softened as he realized what she was doing, a mix of surprise and relief washing over him.

She looked at him as she typed one of her essays, and spun her chair around as he sat at her bed. “I’m not saying I’ll stop hunting," Y/N said, meeting Dean's gaze steadily. "But I'm considering going to college, maybe even out of state." She watched as Dean took in her words, his expression unreadable.

“I told you Y/N, I don’t want you to do me any favors,” Dean replied stubbornly.

“I’m not doing you anything,” she replied. “I’m just considering my options, that's all. I want to make sure I'm making the right choice for me, not just for the sake of hunting or trying to appease anyone else. If that mean’s going to college, I’ll give it a shot. But I’m not going to stop hunting.”

Dean looked at her, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions. "Alright," he finally said, his voice soft. "Just promise me you'll be careful, okay? And remember, whatever path you choose, I'll support you."

“Really?” she asked unsure of his statement.

"Yeah, really," Dean confirmed, a small smile playing on his lips. "You're my sister, Y/N. All I've ever wanted is for you to be safe and happy. If college is what will make you happy, then I'm all for it. If it’s hunting, I don’t agree with it, but I’ll support you either way.”

Y/N looked at him, a sense of relief washing over her. "Thank you, Dean," she said softly, grateful for his understanding. "I promise to be careful, no matter what path I choose."

“Good” Dean said hugging her. “Also, I’d recommend some colleges in California. Just in case Sammy or I want a vacation.”

Y/N laughed, the tension in the room finally easing. "I'll keep that in mind," she promised, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days. It was clear they still had a lot to navigate, but for now, this was enough.

#dean winchester #sam and dean #sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #winchester sister #y/n reader #supernatural angst

44 notes · View notes

spnluver · 29 days

Text

Pilot - Part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural or it's characters apart from Y/N Winchester. Any scene that seems altered or completely new is to fit Y/N's storyline.

Ages: Dean-26, Sam-22, Y/N-14

They drove for what seems like hours until they reached a bridge. “Stay here, got it?” Dean asked Y/N strictly.

“Yes,” Y/N replied. She watched as Dean pulled out two fake FBI cards, and tossed one to Sam before they went to meet the real cops. She watched their interactions, until she saw real FBI agents come. Dean and Sam had a quick little interaction with them, before going back in the car, driving off. “So, what happened?” She asked him.

“We’re going downtown to ask one of their daughters a couple of questions,” he replied. “She dated a victim.”

They continued driving until they reached an old abandoned theatre. Two women were hanging up pictures. “Is that her?” Y/N asked pointing.

"Yeah, that's her," Dean confirmed, parking the car a safe distance away. "Remember, Y/N, we're here to get information, not cause a scene. So, play nice, okay?" Despite his stern tone, there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as they exited the car and approached the women.

“Only if Sam does,” Y/N replied under breath. Dean heard, but didn’t say anything as they got out of the car.

“You’re Amanda right?” Dean asked approaching the woman. “I’m Dean, this is my brother Sam, we’re Troy’s uncles.”

“Who’s the kid?” Amanda asked nodding over to me.

“Y/N, she’s my daughter,” Dean lied.

“He never mentioned you to me,” Amanda said walking away.

“Well, that’s Troy,” Dean said.

Sam walked in front of the woman. “Look, we’re just here to ask a few questions.”

A friend of hers walked up to Amanda. “Hey, you okay?” Amanda nodded.

“Apparently these are Troy’s uncles and…niece,” she said uncertainly not knowing what to call me.

“Listen, ladies this went off on the wrong foot,” Dean interjected. “Why don’t we discuss this over a cup of coffee?”

“Only of you’re paying,” her friend said.

“Fair enough,” Sam said.

They walked over to a coffee shop, and the five shared a booth. “Alright ladies,” Dean said. “We need information, so if the two of you know anything… what?”

The two exchanged a look. Amanda’s friend spoke up. “Well, there’s this old folklore. A woman who hitchhikes. She died on a bridge decades ago, and well, if you see her…”

“Most men don’t return,” Amanda said. “Hopefully that wasn’t Troy.”

“Well, that’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Dean said softly. “Sorry for your loss, ladies.”

“You too,” Amanda said.

The three walked back to the car. Sam was already further ahead. “So, daughter huh?” Y/N asked with a smirk.

Dean grinned, ruffling her hair. "Yeah, well, it was easier than explaining the whole complicated family history," he replied, winking at her. "Besides, you're practically my kid anyway."

Y/N just rolled her eyes, a smirk playing on her lips. "Yeah, right. Don't get any ideas, old man," she shot back, nudging him playfully as they got into the car.

They got to a library and found a free computer with Dean typing in Murder on Centennial. “Let me try,” Sam said after Dean was unsuccessful.

“I got it,” Dean said slapping Sam’s hand out of the way. He kept typing before Sam pushed his chair out of the way so he could scoot in. “Dude! You’re such a control freak.”

“Angry spirits are born from a violent death right?” Sam asked. “So maybe it wasn’t a murder.” He replaced the word murder with suicide, and read the article.

“Does that bridge look familiar to you?” Dean asked Sam. Later that evening, they rode to the same bridge and the cops were gone.

Dean turned off the engine, and the three of them climbed out of the car. The night was quiet, except for the distant hooting of an owl. Y/N followed close behind, her heart pounding in her chest as they ventured deeper into the darkness.

“So this is where Constance took the swan dive,” Dean remarked. Y/N stood close, but kept her distance between the brothers. “Alright, well, we’ll come back in the morning.”

“And do what right now?” Sam asked frustration evident.

“I don’t know, it might take a while,” Dean replied.

“Dean, I told you, I need to get back by Monday,” Sam said.

Dean said Monday at the same time. “Right I forgot, your law school interview. You’re really serious about this aren’t you?”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze steely. "Yeah, Dean, I am," he replied. "This is my future we're talking about." Y/N just rolled her eyes, leaning against the railing of the bridge.

“So what are you going to do? Become a lawyer, marry your girl?” Dean asked a hint of resentment in his voice.

“Maybe,” Sam replied.

“Does Jessica know the truth about you? About the things you’ve done?” Dean asked Sam.

“No,” Sam replied. “And she’s never going to.”

“Well that’s healthy,” Dean said. He started to walk away. “Sooner or later Sam, you’re going to have to face who you really are?”

“And what’s that?” Sam asked his voice growing angry.

“One of us,” Dean said. Sam walked in front of him, blocking his path.

“No, I am not going to be like you,” Sam spat. “This is not going to be my life. And you know what? If I could, I would take Y/N with me. Give her a shot at normalcy.”

Dean shot him a surprised look, and for a moment, there was silence. "You think I haven't thought about that?" Dean asked, his voice tense. "You think I don't want that for her too? I do, but it’s not my choice. And besides, you have an obligation.”

“To what?” Sam asked. “To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren’t for pictures, or for Mom being brought back to give birth to Y/N? I wouldn’t even know what she’d look like.

Y/N got angry. She stormed up to him, and yelled. “At least you met Mom. So don't you dare act like you had it worse than me!” Y/N shouted, her voice echoing off the empty buildings. She was shaking with rage, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Y/N, why don’t you go take a walk,” Dean said strictly.

“But you said —“

“I know what I said,” Dean replied. “But go take a walk or something.”

Y/N huffed in frustration, but did as she was told, leaving the two brothers alone. She didn't go too far, just far enough to be out of earshot. She couldn't help but feel a pang of anger towards Sam for his ignorant words, and she spent her time alone trying to cool down. It wasn’t until out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dean shove Sam against the railing. A chill ran down her spine and she turned around to find a woman standing on the railing. “Dean!” She called out.

But her warning came too late. The woman fell over the bridge, but disappeared. “Y/N,” Dean said jogging over to her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied. Then the headlights of the car turned on. “Who’s driving your car?”

He held up his keys and the Impala. It started advancing towards them, and it did so until they had to hop over the ledge.

Y/N screamed, closed her eyes and waited for impact, but it didn’t come. Instead, she felt Sam grab onto her ankle. She opened her eyes, realizing she was hanging off the ledge, her heart pounding in her chest. "I got you," Sam said, his voice strained as he tried to pull her up. He pulled her up while trying not to fall over himself.

“Where’s Dean?” She asked him after she was safely on one of the shafts.

Sam looked over. “DEAN!” He yelled looking down. Soon enough, a muddy Dean came crawling out of the water. “Dean!”

“What?” He asked annoyed.

“Hey, you good?” Sam asked. Y/N looked over, saw him lying on his back giving an okay sign.

“Super,” he replied sarcastically.

Sam laughed and helped Y/N onto the other side of the edge, safely on the bridge before going over himself. “You gonna start talking to me again?”

“Just cause you saved my life doesn’t mean I owe you anything,” she said angrily, storming off to the Impala.

Sam watched as Y/N walked away, a mix of frustration and concern etched on his face. He didn't say anything else as he followed her to the car, leaving Dean to pull himself out of the water. The rest of the night was filled with a tense silence, the tension between the siblings palpable in the confined space of the Impala. When Dean met them there, he was covered in mud. “Your car okay?” Sam asked him as he moved over to inspect it.

“Yeah, whatever Constance did, it didn’t damage it,” Dean replied. “That Constance chick, what a bitch!”

Y/N just rolled her eyes, ignoring Dean as she sat down on the hood of the car. She stared out into the darkness, her thoughts filled with a mix of anger and confusion. “So what now?” Sam asked Dean. Dean raised his arms in frustration.

They sat in silence for a moment before Y/N spoke up. “You smell like a toilet.”

Dean shot her an annoyed look, but didn't say anything. "Yeah, well, you try falling into a river and see how you smell," he grumbled under his breath, earning a small smirk from Y/N.

Before Dean could reach out to hug her she escaped his arms and got back into the passenger seat of the car. Dean then went to the trunk and got out a tarp, setting it down on his portion of the seat before sitting to start the car. Y/N smirked at him. “Shut up,” he said annoyed, starting the car and pulling into a motel. “One room.”

“You guys having a reunion or something?” The receptionist asked. He looked at the card again. “The older guy, Bert Aframian checked out a room for a whole month.”

"Interesting," Dean mused, exchanging a glance with Sam and Y/N. "We'll take the room next to his." Dean added, flashing her a charming smile. The receptionist just nodded, handing over the room key.

Dean stood watch while Y/N picked the lock. “Done,” she muttered opening the door. Dean and Sam followed after her, and noticed an open half-eaten burger, sniffing it.

“Ugh,” he said. “Looks like dad’s been gone a couple of days.”

Y/N walked over to a wall where she saw the same pictures of the missing men. “Cat’s eyes, salt,” Sam said. “Dad was trying to keep something out.”

Dean walked over to where Y/N was. “So what do all these men have in common? They’re all different races, different ages. I mean there has to be some sort of connection.”

“Sometimes all it takes is being a man,” Y/N replied.

Dean gave her a side glance.

Y/N rolled her eyes at him. "I'm just saying, it's a possibility, Dean." she retorted, continuing to examine the photos.

“Yeah, well,” Dean started to reply.

“Guys,” Sam interrupted. “Dad figured it out. Found the same article we did.”

"He was on the right track, but was missing the last piece of the puzzle," Y/N added, pointing to the empty space on the wall. “Wouldn’t Dad have burned the corpse?”

"Maybe he didn't get the chance to," Dean suggested, his gaze on the empty space. "Or maybe there's something else we're missing. Let's keep digging."

“Dude, seriously. There’s a shower right there,” Y/N said as he stood behind her.

Dean shot her a glare before finally conceding. "Fine, but don't touch anything while I'm gone." He headed to the shower, leaving Sam and Y/N alone in the room to continue their investigation.

She heard the water turn on, but then felt stiff knowing she’d have to be left alone in the room with Sam. He didn’t seem to care or feel awkward as he listened to messages on his phone. Some time went by before she heard the water turn off again. “Hey, I’m gonna go get some food from the diner. Want anything? Aframian’s buying.”

“No, I’m good,” Sam said.

“Y/N?” Dean asked. Y/N nodded and followed him out the door. When he closed it, he turned to her. “You okay?" Dean asked, his voice filled with concern. She gave him a small nod, not trusting herself to speak. "Look, I know this is hard for you," Dean continued. "But remember, we're doing this for Dad. We need to stick together, okay?"

They started walking towards the Impala. “I still don’t know why we can’t hunt on our own — 5-oh.” She said seeing the same cops from a couple of days before.

Dean pulled out his phone, calling Sam. He put it away and turned around to face them. “Officers,” Dean greeted.

“Fake Marshall’s, fake credit cards… got anything real?” The cop asked.

Dean smirked. “My boobs.”

The cop’s partner pulled Y/N to the side so they sat in separate cars. She watched him being arrested by the two. The partner got into her car while the main cop drove Dean. “You’re not under arrest,” the cop said to her. “But you need to come with us to the station for questioning," he added, his tone stern but not unkind. Y/N just nodded, letting him guide her into the back of the cop car. She couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping up on her as they drove away, leaving the Impala and Dean behind.

He led her gently to the questioning room and met up with a female cop there. “What’s going to happen to my brother?” She asked the minute she sat down.

"Your brother is going to be held for further questioning," the female cop replied. "In the meantime, we would like to hear your side of the story."

“I have nothing to tell you,” she spat with her arms crossed.

The female cop, Detective Ashley looked at her sternly. “Your brother has pictures of decades worth of missing and dead person’s on his wall. He is officially a suspect.”

“Yeah that’s smart, considering he was two during the first kill,” Y/N retorted.

“We know you got an older guy. Maybe he raised him into it. Now you,” the male cop, Detective Benson replied.

“You think I’m being raised to be a killer?” She asked.

"Maybe not a killer, but definitely something suspicious," Detective Ashley said, her gaze steady. "We just want to understand why your family is involved in all this. If your brother is guilty, we won’t charge you. You are a minor after all, under the influence of people who are supposed to raise you. Could be blindly following orders. Believe me, you’ll be innocent in the eyes of the court. But not your brother.”

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, but she managed to keep her composure. “I want Dean,” she said figuring that they got his real name already. They already knew about the credit cards. She started to panic, wondering how they were going to get out of it this time. She started to get up and pace around.

Detective Ashley sighed, leaning back in her chair. "Dean is being held for questioning, just like you. Right now, the best thing you can do is cooperate with us," she said, her tone firm but not unkind. Y/N just glared at her, her fear transforming into defiance.

“No, I’m not saying anything anyway, I want my brother,” she said, her voice starting to crack.

Detective Benson raised an eyebrow at her outburst, his gaze cold and calculating. "Your brother can't help you here, kid," he said, his voice hard. “If anything we know he might try to influence your answers further.”

“He’s not a killer!” She shouted.

"Maybe not, but we can't rule him out until we know for sure," replied Detective Benson, his tone harsh but steady. "All we want is the truth, kid. So, are you going to help us or make things worse for your brother?"

“I want to speak to my brother,” she said panicking.

Detective Ashley looked over at her partner. “No!” Detective Benson said.

“Look, maybe if she saw he’s fine it’ll calm her down. You know how these kids are,” she said sympathetically.

“Two minutes,” Detective Benson said walking her over to Dean’s questioning room. His detective looked confused but she didn’t care. Instead she hugged him immediately, and he hugged her with his one free hand. The other one was in a handcuff.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean said softly. "You okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

“No, I'm not okay," she replied whispering, her voice shaky. "They think you're a killer, Dean. They think you've been raising me to be... to be something bad." She couldn't bring herself to say the words, her fear choking her. "I don't know what to do."

“Hey,” he said his voice stern. “Just answer the questions with what you know. And don’t worry about the rest alright?”

Y/N gave him a nod, taking a deep breath to regain her composure. "Okay," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Deep breaths, remember that,” Dean said softly. “Don’t let yourself get into a panic attack again, okay?”

She nodded again, swallowing hard. "I'll try," she promised, her voice wavering slightly. Dean gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze, his gaze steady and reassuring. She took one last look at him before the detective led her back to her own questioning room, her heart pounding with fear and uncertainty.

Dean turned back to face his own detective, glaring at him. “You seem to care about her, don’t you?” He asked Dean.

“I raised her like my own,” Dean said proudly.

"And yet, you brought her into this dangerous world," the detective retorted, his gaze cold and unyielding. "That doesn't seem like something a responsible guardian would do." Dean just glared at him silently, his jaw clenched in anger. “You’re turning her into a killer just like you, and just like your father.”

"I'm not a killer, and neither is she," Dean retorted, his voice filled with a dangerous edge. "And you don't know anything about my father."

“Do you?” The detective asked.

Dean's anger flared at the insinuation. "My father is a good man," he shot back, his voice icy. "He might have made some questionable choices, but he did what he thought was best for us. He didn’t kill anyone. And I did my best to protect my sister. You can question and insult me all you want, but bring my sister into this and we’ll have a problem.”

The detective raised an eyebrow at Dean's outburst, a smirk playing on his lips. "Is that a threat, Mr. Winchester?" he asked, his tone mocking. Dean just glared at him, his silence speaking volumes.

“I’m protecting my kid,” Dean replied.

“I thought she’s your sister,” the cop said raising an eyebrow.

"Biologically, yes," Dean answered, a hard edge in his voice. "But I raised her, I took care of her. She's as much my kid as she is my sister."

The detective leaned back in his chair, studying Dean for a moment. "That's a heavy burden for someone your age," he remarked. "I can't imagine it was easy." Despite his stern facade, there was a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “But that doesn’t change the facts, Dean. You are a suspected killer, forcing your kid into this life. You think that’ll look good in the eyes of the court?”

Dean's jaw clenched at the detective's words, his gaze hardening. "I don't give a damn about how it looks," he retorted, his voice cold. "All I care about is keeping Y/N safe. That's all that matters."

The detective sneered, leaning forward on his desk. "Is she safe though? Being raised in a world of crime and danger, constantly on the run," he questioned. "Doesn't sound like a safe environment for a child to me. Sounds a bit controlling to me.”

“I’m doing my best to get her out,” he retorted.

“Out of what, Mr. Winchester?” The detective asked nearly cracking Dean. Dean could feel the walls closing in, the pressure mounting.

“Officer,” one of his partners came in the room. “Fire on seventh street. Got a call from a witness.”

When the cop left, Dean let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He grabbed a paper clip from his father’s journal, unlocked the cuffs, grabbed the journal, and went to his sister’s questioning room. He unlocked her own handcuffs. “Hey, kid,” Dean said as he picked the lock.

“What’re you—“ she started to ask. The lock clicked. “What’s dad’s—“

“C’mon,” Dean replied ushering her out. “We don’t got a lot of time.”

Together, Dean guided her out safely, running almost a mile before hitting a phone booth, where Dean called Sam. “Sammy-“

“Look, can you shut up for a second that’s what I’m trying to tell you. Dad left Jericho, I have his journal,” Dean said there was a small pause. “I know, but that’s why Constance is still out. Dad never burned her corpse. Yeah, Y/N's fine she’s with me.”

They then jump started a car, driving to the old abandoned house that belonged to the Woman in White.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #sam and dean #winchester sister #y/n reader

43 notes · View notes

spnluver · 29 days

Text

Pilot - Part 1

Summary: Y/N Winchester is the younger sister of Sam and Dean, and has been raised by her eldest brother Dean Winchester.

A/N: I do not own any characters to supernatural, or the show. I only own Y/N Winchester who is a character insert as the younger sister of the brothers. If anything seems altered or completely brand new to the story, it is to fit her storyline.

Ages: Dean-26, Sam-22, Y/N-14

“Why do we even have to get Sam?” Y/N asked Dean resentfully. “He made his bed, he should lay in it.”

Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. "He's our brother, Y/N. That's all the reason we need.”

Y/N scowled, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s stupid.”

Dean gave her a stern look. "Maybe, but it's the right thing to do. You'll understand when you're older." Y/N just huffed in response, turning her gaze to the passing scenery.

“Sam hasn’t called us in two years,” she said. “What makes you so sure he’ll say yes?”

Dean shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. "I don't know," he admitted. "But we have to try."

“It’s stupid,” she said again, slumping against the seat.

Dean kept his expression strict. “Look, I get it. You’re pissed off. But I’m getting Sam from Stanford and that’s the end of it. No more arguments." Y/N responded with a sulky silence, a clear sign that she was done with the discussion, for now. Dean ran a hand over his face, a clear sign that he was frustrated. “Okay, I’ll make you a deal. You can give him all the silent treatment and attitude you want and you won’t get in trouble with me.”

Y/N blinked, turning to look at him. "Really?" she asked, a note of surprise in her voice.

Dean chuckled, "Yeah, really. Just don't go overboard, alright? And if you want to put in a word for me, tell him he’s an ass.”

Y/N smiled slightly. “Deal.”

The tension in the car eased slightly, both of them looking ahead to the reunion with mixed feelings. Dean saw as Y/N close her eyes, her breathing pattern telling him she was asleep. He turned the music up a little louder, and continued to drive into the night, the road stretching out before them, leading them towards a reunion that could change everything. Dean parked into the alleyway of Sam’s apartment and sat outside for almost two hours, contemplating everything before waking up his sister. “What?” she grumbled.

"We're here," Dean said, his voice soft. "Time to wake up, kiddo." Y/N yawned, rubbing her eyes as she sat up, shooting her brother a sleepy, irritated glare.

“Hey,” he said with a strict expression. “I said Sam, not me.”

Y/N just grumbled under her breath, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the reunion. "Fine," she muttered, but her tone suggested that it was anything but. She started walking towards the front door.

“Where are you going?” Dean asked.

"To knock?" Y/N replied. She saw him shake his head, and look up to the second-floor window of the apartment. "No, we're not going to knock. We're going to surprise him," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Y/N sighed, but nodded, following her brother's lead as they quietly climbed up the fire escape.

They slid into the window after picking the lock, and Dean followed after her, making a loud slamming noise as he shut the window. Y/N ducked behind a couch, and soon enough she heard the sound of two men fighting, punching and tackling each other. Peeking over the top of the couch, Y/N watched as Dean and Sam wrestled each other to a standstill. “Dean?” Sam asked as Dean straddled him. Y/N could barely make out their silhouette’s. The only thing that differentiated them was their height.

“Look’s like you’ve been out of practice,” Dean replied. She could almost hear his smirk. There was some movement, before he continued with. “Or not…Get off of me.”

Soon enough, a light turned on, and Y/N had to blink a few times to adjust to the sudden brightness. Y/N squinted, her eyes landing on Sam. He looked older, different, but still unmistakably her brother. She stayed hidden, curious to see how this unexpected family reunion would play out. “Sam?” A woman’s voice came from another end of the room.

Sam turned around to see a woman in the doorway, her face filled with confusion. “Oh, hey, Jess. Sorry, this is just my brother, Dean.”

“Your older brother Dean?” she asked. Sam nodded.

“Hey I love the Smurfs, and boy, I gotta tell you, you are way out of my brother’s league,” Dean said with a smirk. Jess’s smile faltered, turning into a defensive smirk. “Look, I gotta borrow your boyfriend over here, but it was nice meeting you.”

“Where’s Y/N?” Sam asked looking at Dean. “Why isn’t she with you?”

“Because she’s over there,” Dean said pointing to one of the couches. Y/N rolled her eyes and stood up from her hiding spot, crossing her arms over her chest as she approached the two. She didn’t say anything to Sam, but he introduced her to Jess anyway, whom she gave a small smile to.

“I’m just gonna go change,” Jess said pointing awkwardly to what would be her and Sam’s room.

“No, no,” Dean said. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Seriously.” Sam slapped Dean upside the head, and Jess rolled her eyes.

“Alright, what’s going on?” Sam said to Dean. “Why didn’t you just call?”

Dean gave Sam an incredulous look. “If I had called would you have answered.” Sam looked down, embarrassed. “Thought so. Let’s go outside.”

“No,” Sam said, walking over to Jess. “No, whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of her.”

“Alright,” Dean said. Y/N could tell he was trying to word the situation without giving away too much. “Dad’s on a hunting trip. And he hasn’t been home in a couple of days.”

“Maybe he’s on a daytime shift,” Sam said. "He'll come around eventually."

“Dad’s on a hunting trip,” Dean said, repeating himself. “And he hasn’t been home in a couple of days.”

Sam’s expression changed quickly, showing he understood. Based on his response, and Jessica’s confused look, she didn’t know a thing. “Jess excuse us,” Sam said starting to walk out the door, leading both of his siblings down the stairs. “Look, you can’t just break in in the middle of the night and expect me to go with you.”

“I can and I will,” Dean said walking to the back door.

“I mean, why not just have Y/N help you?” Sam continued. It was clear, he was going to say no.

Dean turned around, nearly causing Y/N to bump into him. “She’s still too young, Sam," Dean said firmly. “She’s barely moved on to salt and burns and a few exorcisms.” She felt a sting at Dean's words, but she didn't say anything. Y/N knew he was only trying to protect her, but it didn't make it any less frustrating. “You think Mom would have wanted this for us?” Sam asked Dean.

She could feel the tension rising as Sam said that. Instead of replying, Dean forced the door open, and started walking off. She followed quickly behind, and Sam followed after them. “I mean c’mon Dean. The weapon training, the melting silver into bullets? He raised us like warriors, Dean. And now Y/N.”

Y/N inwardly cringed as Sam said that. “You’re being an ass, Sam," she snapped, finally breaking her silence. Dean had a small smile forming on his face. “You don’t know anything about me so shut the hell up.” With that, she got in the car and slammed the door shut.

“Don’t slam my door!” Dean yelled knowing she could hear him. Dean then turned back to Sam.

“Nice sister you got there," Sam commented, sarcasm dripping from his words. Dean shot him a warning look.

Dean sighed. “She may be a teenager, but she’s got a point. So what are you going to do? Live a normal quiet Apple-Pie life?”

“Not normal,” Sam replied. “Safe.”

Y/N could still hear their conversation, and drowned them out, putting on her headphones for her Walkman. She didn’t know how much time had passed before Dean had tapped her headphones. “I can hear the music through your headphones,” Dean said. She paused the music, and looked at him.

“So is Sam coming or not?” she asked him.

“Yeah, he’s getting his stuff,” Dean replied. “You want to go in the backseat?”

“No,” Y/N said before putting on her headphones again, AC/DC ringing through her ears. Dean only smiled, knowing she was just like him in most ways. They sat in silence for a few minutes until Sam emerged from the apartment building, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He slid into the backseat without a word, his expression hard and unreadable. Y/N just turned her music up louder, the familiar echoes of filling through her ears and into the car as they started their journey.

“You converting her now?” Sam asked.

Dean glanced back at Sam through the rearview mirror. "Nah, she's just got good taste," he replied, smirking. He tapped her headphones again.

“What?” she asked.

"Turn it down a little, will ya?" Dean requested, trying to maintain a conversation with Sam. Y/N reluctantly complied, turning the volume down so that it was just a faint hum of music in the background. She fell asleep to the music, and the vibrations of the Impala, faster than she fell asleep in a normal bed.

+++

She woke up due to the sunlight shining in through the windows, only to realize her headphones weren’t on her head anymore. “Dean took them off the minute you were asleep,” Sam said nearly startling her. “Sorry,” he added. Y/N sat up, squinting against the bright morning light. She realized they were at a gas station, seeing Dean inside the store, paying. “You can’t even go a minute without Dean in the same room as us, can you?”

“You don’t know anything about us, Sam," Y/N retorted, her voice sharp. She felt a wave of irritation wash over her. "You left, remember?" Sam looked at her, surprised by the harshness in her tone. But Y/N didn't care. She was tired of Sam acting like he knew everything about them when he hadn't been a part of their lives for the past four years. “Besides, I didn’t even want to go to Stanford to see you. Dean forced me.”

Sam frowned at her, looking like he didn't know whether to be hurt or angry. "I did what I thought was best for me, Y/N. I didn't mean to hurt you or Dean." Y/N just shrugged, not trusting herself to speak. She was too tired, and too upset, to get into an argument with Sam. "I'm sorry you feel that way," Sam added quietly, just as Dean returned to the car.

“Just stop trying to talk to me,” She said, not realizing Dean was by her window. She turned around and saw him tap on her window, causing her to jump. She rolled it down, “What do you want Michael Meyers?”

Dean rolled his eyes, leaning against the car. "I got us breakfast," he said, holding up a bag of sandwiches. "Thought you might be hungry."

“Thanks,” she grumbled.

“Sam?” he said holding up the rest of the bag.

“I’m good for now,” Sam said.

Dean tossed the bag into the car, and nudged his sister on the shoulder. “Hey, let's eat outside. Stretch your legs a bit," Dean suggested, motioning for her to get out of the car. Y/N just nodded, sliding out of the car and following Dean towards the gas pump. She could tell it was going to be a long day. She stood next to him, biting into her sandwich. Dean looked at her sternly. “Remember, we're here to find Dad. Don't let your feelings towards Sam get in the way of that," Dean said, his tone serious. Y/N just nodded, focusing on her sandwich. Tensions might be high, but they were still family. And family meant everything.

“Sam’s the one who keeps trying to talk to me, Dean,” Y/N replied. “I’m trying to keep my peace in tact for the weekend.”

Dean sighed, ruffling her hair gently. "Just give him a chance, okay? He's just as worried about Dad as we are. And thanks for the word yesterday.”

Y/N just grumbled in response, taking another bite of her sandwich. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it," she mumbled around a mouthful of food.

Despite her words, she couldn't help but feel a small sense of satisfaction at her brother's gratitude. “Alright, go back inside.”

She nodded, taking one last bite of her sandwich before heading back towards the Impala. She saw the glove box open and Dean sat down next to her. “Dude, you’ve got to update your cassette tape collection.”

“Why?” Dean asked turning to face him.

“For one, they’re cassette tapes. Two, Black Sabbath? Metallica? They’re the greatest hits of mullet rock,” he said, sarcasm clearly evident.

Dean grabbed the box from Sam’s hands and put them back in their place. “What are the house rules, Y/N?” he asked. She gave him a look, saying she didn’t want to partake in the conversation. However, Dean gave her a nod.

"Driver picks the music, shotgun, and now backseat, shuts his cakehole," she recited dutifully and reluctantly. Dean took the AC/DC cassette tape out of her Walkman, and put it in the radio.

"Exactly," Dean said with satisfaction, winking at Y/N. He turned up the volume, the familiar strains of "Highway to Hell" filling the car. Sam just sighed, leaning back in his seat.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #spnfandom #y/n reader #winchester sister #sam and dean #the winchester brothers

37 notes · View notes

spnluver · 1 month

Text

All Roads Lead to Hell Pt. 1

Summary: After the mysterious death of John Winchester, each of his kids are grieving different. Y/N Winchester spends her days confused, trying to understand how she feels. Sam spends his days crying in his room at Bobby's. Dean however, is distant, and only ever fixes up the Impala. When Sam tries to get him to open up, it's a disaster. He results to Y/N, who doesn't know in the slightest how Dean would react, but does it anyway.

Y/N lay on her bed trying to decipher what she currently felt. Confused, angry, resentful, relief. All of these emotions were towards her father’s mysterious death. Since then, she’s never felt more disconnected from her older brothers. It was no secret that John had never cared for her, but she felt almost guilty for not grieving the way Sam and Dean were.

Sam spends most nights crying alone in his room, while Dean does nothing but work on the Impala, which was so obviously destroyed in the car crash. Everyday she looked out the window, Dean was working on the car. It wasn’t until Sam went to check on him. She could tell they were talking, even though Dean’s back was turned away from Dean. Suddenly, he turned around, his voice growing louder. From her room, she could only hear small murmurs.

Y/N squinted, desperately trying to read the situation from her window. But the distance made it impossible to fully comprehend their conversation. Suddenly, Dean glanced up at her window, causing her to quickly retreat from the frame, her heart pounding. She pressed her back against the wall, feeling a sudden rush of fear and regret for having been caught spying. That was something John had always hated. The intentional eavesdropping and watching.

After what felt like an eternity, she dared to peek again, only to find Dean’s back turning away from Sam, and Sam walking back inside. She sighed, the tension leaving her body, though a lingering sense of unease remained. The conversation she had partially witnessed was a stark reminder of the widening gap between her and her brothers. Soon enough, she heard a fight start to ensue, only to find Dean was beating up the Impala.

She winced as she heard the metallic thud of the metal rod Dean held slammed against the car. It was only when Sam knocked on her door when she flinched. "Y/N, we need to talk," he said, his voice tired and filled with concern. “Look, I was just wondering if you could try talking to him this time. I hate to admit it but you do have him wrapped around your finger. He's been keeping everything bottled up, and it's not healthy. Maybe you could get him to open up about how he's really feeling," Sam suggested, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“Even if I did, we both know Dean, Sam,” Y/N replied.

Sam gave a defeated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, you're probably right. But it's worth a shot, isn't it?" He asked, his eyes pleading for her to at least try.

“Fine,” she said. “But, I’ll do it tomorrow.”

As she watched Sam leave her room, she braced herself for the difficult conversation that lay ahead. The thought of reaching out to Dean terrified her, but she knew it was something she had to do. She had always told him how she felt and he always encouraged it. But him reaching out to anyone was a different story.

Later that night, Dean had knocked on her door. “Lights out, kiddo,” he said standing by her doorway.

She closed her book, and turned off the lights. "’Night, Dean," she responded, forcing a small smile. As she lay in the darkness, she steeled herself for the emotional challenge that awaited her the next day.

The next morning, she found the usual view from her window. Dean was out there, lost in his own world, laboring to fix the Impala. She got dressed, stalling as long as she could before she went outside. It wasn’t until she was within earshot when Dean said, “Y/N, if Sammy sent you here to talk to me, don’t even bother.”

"I came out here on my own, Dean," she replied, trying to maintain her composure. "Just wanted to see how the car's coming along." The lie felt hollow, but she hoped it would give her the opening she needed to reach her brother.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Dean replied.

"I know, but I had to try," she admitted, mustering up a weak smile. "Dean, I'm worried about you." The words tumbled out before she could stop them, raw and honest.

“Just, stop,” Dean said turning to face her, holding out his hand. “I strongly recommend you stop now.”

"Dean, you can't just keep everything bottled up," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "We're your family, we're here for you." His silence was the only response she received, but she took it as a silent agreement to at least consider her words.

“Enough, Y/N,” Dean said strictly.

“But —” she tried. Dean interrupted her, his voice growing louder.

"I said enough!" Dean said sternly, his eyes filled with a mix of pain and frustration. "I don't want to talk about this anymore." His words were like a door slamming shut, effectively ending their conversation.

“Okay,” she said. “In all seriousness, how’s the car coming along?”

Dean sighed, running a hand over the car's hood. "Slowly, but she's getting there," he admitted, a hint of pride in his voice. "It's a good distraction, at least.”

“Aren’t you going to talk about it?” she blurted out anxiously.

“About what?” Dean asked starting to get defensive again.

“You seeing me watch you and Sammy,” Y/N answered.

Dean glanced at her, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he shrugged nonchalantly. "I figured you were just curious," he said, his voice softer now. "But let's not make a habit of it, okay?"

“Okay,” she agreed, feeling a sense of relief that Dean didn't seem too upset about her spying. "I'll let you get back to work then," she added, giving him a small smile before turning to head back inside, hoping she'd at least planted a seed for Dean to consider opening up a little more.

“Well?” Sam asked as she came inside. He handed her a coffee.

“Talked about everything else, but Dad,” Y/N replied.

Sam sighed, looking disappointed but not surprised. "Dean's still not ready to talk about it," she added, taking a sip of her coffee. "But I think I got through to him a little." Sam nodded, a hint of relief in his eyes. "We'll just have to give him time."

“Told you,” Sam said.

"Yes, you did," Y/N agreed, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sam asked.

"Yeah, I guess," she replied, her smile fading slightly. "It's just...hard, you know? Seeing Dean like this. And not being able to do much to help." She shrugged, trying to shake off the feeling of helplessness that was creeping up on her.

“I meant with Dad,” Sam confirmed.

"I...I don't know, Sam," Y/N admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "He hated me and showed it. I don’t feel sad, but, I feel guilty when I see you and Dean. I feel like I’m not feeling the right emotions, you know?”

Sam nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Grief is different for everyone, Y/N. And it's okay to feel the way you do." He reassured her, offering a supportive smile. “I know Dad wasn’t the best person around you. But remember, you don't owe anyone a specific reaction. Your feelings are valid, and you have every right to process this in your own way," Sam added, a note of firmness in his voice that Y/N found comforting.

“Thanks, Sammy,” Y/N said.

Suddenly, the door opened, revealing Dean. “Y/N, want to help me work on the car?”

She looked at Sam, who gave her a small nod of encouragement. "Sure, Dean," she replied, standing up and following him outside. As she walked towards the Impala, she couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, they were starting to break through Dean's walls.

He handed her a wrench. "Here, you can help me tighten these bolts," he said, pointing to a spot under the hood. Despite the tension, she thought she detected a hint of warmth in his voice, compared to his stricter tone from earlier. It was a small step, but it was a start.

Working side by side under the hood of the Impala, Y/N could feel the weight of the silence between them. It wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't bad either. It was a silence filled with unspoken words and shared grief, a silence they both needed. He told her what to do, to help with the Impala, but that was the extent of it.

The next day, Y/N continued working with Dean on the Impala. She was surprised to find Dean telling her a story about his childhood, long before she was born. “Dad was training me with hunting,” Dean started. “I was ten, and he taught me how to shoot a gun. I remember being so scared, my hands were shaking. But Dad, he just told me to breathe and focus. Didn't matter if I was scared. All that mattered was the job," Dean continued, a hint of nostalgia in his voice as he recalled the memory. “That kind of got me going. I didn’t want him to think I was scared anymore, so I shot it right in the target.” Y/N listened intently as Dean shared more about their father and his own past. It was a rare moment of openness from Dean, and although it didn't directly address their father's death, it felt like a step in the right direction. “I’ve never seen him so proud of me since then.”

Y/N nodded, processing Dean's words. She could see how much the memory meant to him, even if it was a painful one. "I think he'd still be proud of you, Dean," she said quietly, offering him a small, supportive smile.

“He wouldn’t be,” Dean said bitterly. “Every time he taught me something knew, and I accomplished it, he’d always say that ‘The time you succeed is the time to stop celebrating. After that, you’re only as good as your last hunt. Get the job done.’”

"Sounds like he was tough on you," Y/N murmured, her heart aching for her older brother.

Dean laughed bitterly. "Tough doesn't even begin to cover it," he said, shaking his head. "But that was Dad. Always pushing us to be better, to be ready. No time for anything else. I don’t want that for you kiddo, I never have.”

“Me being better?” she asked, genuinely confused.

"No, the pressure," Dean clarified. "The constant pushing, the never being good enough. That's not a life for anyone, especially not for you, Y/N. You may hate when I say this, but you’re still a kid. And no kid deserves the feeling of never being good enough.”

“To be honest, I’ve never felt good enough for Dad,” she replied. “But, when it came to you, you always encouraged me when I succeeded. You even punished me when I messed up beyond hunting. If anything you raised me Dean.”

Dean was silent for a moment, processing her words. "I...I tried my best, Y/N. I wanted to give you the childhood that Sam and I never had. I just hope it was enough," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Well, I’m not you,” she said with a smirk.

Dean chuckled lightly, "Thank God for that," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "One of me in this family is more than enough."

There was a slight awkward silence after he spoke.

“In all honesty, I’ve — I’ve always looked up to you,” Y/N said looking away from his gaze.

Dean looked at her, surprised. "Really?" He asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Even though I'm just a big, grumpy older brother who's always bossing you around?" He tried to joke, but his eyes showed his vulnerability.

“Yeah,” she replied shyly, shrugging her shoulders. “I mean, whenever Dad treat us like crap, you always stood up for us. You never stood up for yourself even if he was the one hurting you. You were the one who comforted me, who made me feel like I mattered. Even if you were strict at times, I know you were just trying to keep me safe. I kind of always thought of you as a superhero. Just the meanings changed when I got more common sense that they weren’t real.”

“Superheroes aren’t real?” Dean asked a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “The Batmobile doesn’t exist?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "No, Dean, the Batmobile isn't real. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

Dean clutched his chest and fell backwards dramatically. "But my dreams, crushed," he said, feigning a devastated expression. "Guess we'll just have to stick with the Impala then, huh?" Y/N laughed again, feeling a sense of camaraderie with Dean that she hadn't felt in a long time.

He pushed himself off the ground, speaking sincerely this time. "Thank you, kiddo. You know," he said, looking at her with a softness in his eyes she rarely saw, "I've always been proud of you. You're stronger than you think. Don't ever forget that."

“Stronger than Iron Man?” she asked.

“Don’t push your luck,” he said with a grin.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #sam and dean #john winchester hate club #supernatural angst #y/n reader #winchester sister

21 notes · View notes

spnluver · 1 month

Text

Join the Hunt

Summary: Y/N Winchester messed up on a hunt, and faced the harsh consequences John made. He threw her into a vamp's nest, causing her to turn. Dean however, vowed to turn her back to a human, doing whatever it took.

Y/N sat in silence during the long car ride. She glanced over at Dean, who was nursing a wound… a large gash in his arm. She didn’t dare speak to him, knowing John would kick her out of the car and make her walk back. When they reached the motel room, he started to scream at her ruthlessly.

In a fit of rage, he blamed Y/N for the botched hunt, his voice echoing harshly against the worn-out motel walls. She bit her lip, holding back tears, as she absorbed the brunt of his fury. “I didn’t —” she tried to defend herself. But John wasn’t having any of it.

"Enough!" Dean finally interjected, his voice matching the intensity of John's. "It wasn't her fault, and you know it!”

Y/N locked eyes with Dean, grateful for his intervention. Silence filled the room, punctuated only by the sound of their heavy breathing. “She fucked up, and it cost you that fucking thing,” John said pointing to his wound.

"Enough, Dad!" Dean snapped back, his eyes hard and intense. "She's learning. We all made mistakes on our first hunts." The room fell silent again, tension hanging heavy in the air.

“She doesn’t,” John said pointing at her. Then he turned to face her. “You will obey all of my goddamned orders, do you understand?”

“I didn’t know what to —” she tried defending herself.

John cut her off again, "No excuses, Y/N!" His gaze was icy.

“I didn’t know what to do!” she yelled back, her eyes widening out of fear.

“What did you just say to me?” John asked advancing towards her, his voice threatening.

“I… I didn’t mean to yell,” She said backing away. “I just…I…I didn’t know what to do.”

She was backed into a wall, causing John to sneer. She looked over at Dean, who was watching the encounter happen as he cleaned and stitched his arm. John gripped her chin tightly, threatening her. “Dean’s not going to fucking help you,” he spat. There was a small window of silence before John struck her unexpectedly. She knew John was right. He had made a threat to him, one that would hurt them both if Dean interrupted her. John gripped the back of her neck, walking her forward and out of the motel room in the cold night.

As the door slammed shut behind them, Y/N found herself in the chilling darkness, her heart pounding in her chest. He threw her at the Impala, where she held out her hands to block her fall. She landed hard, her palms scraping painfully against the rough gravel. For a moment, she just lay there, her breaths coming out in shaky gasps as she tried to collect herself.

He picked her up again, and dragged her to the inside of the Impala, slamming the door shut, and going inside himself, starting the car immediately. She was left in the passenger seat, her body trembling from the cold and fear. She watched as John's face hardened into a mask of anger and determination. As the Impala roared to life, Y/N knew that the night was far from over. She wrapped her arms around her stomach protectively, looking out the window.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting long shadows that danced across the deserted highway. Y/N peered out at the desolate landscape, her heart aching with a mix of guilt, fear, and a strange sense of anticipation. She knew that this was just the beginning of her journey into the world of hunting. They had arrived at John’s intended location.

John took Y/N to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town, rumored to be the site of several unexplained disappearances. It was a grim, foreboding place, its skeletal structure silhouetted against the pale moonlight.

She felt an involuntary shiver run down her spine as they entered. The eerie silence of the place, punctuated only by the distant hooting of an owl, added an extra layer of dread to the already tense atmosphere.

There, they met a man. As the man approached, his eyes filled with a disturbing glee, Y/N felt herself freeze. But she forced herself to move, to stand tall, because she knew she had to be strong, for herself, for Dean. The night was only just beginning, and she was ready to face whatever lay ahead. John threw her at the man, causing her to stumble but quickly regained her footing, her gaze never leaving the man's eyes. She could see the swift, but fast movements of the man, as he approached her. In the moonlight, the man smiled, and she could see fangs. She heard a door close behind her. Her head turned at the moment, realizing John was no longer behind her. “Dad!” she yelled, running to the door of the shed. It was bolted shut. “Dad don’t leave me in here! I won’t make a mistake again I promise. Dad!”

But there was no response, only the cold wind whistling through the cracks. She turned back to face the man, her heart pounding in her chest. He was right in front of her, and she went into shock, before a painful bite was made onto her neck, and she let out a scream.

The scream echoed through the warehouse, bouncing off the walls and reverberating in the still night air. Y/N tried to push the man away, her hands fumbling against his chest, but he was too strong. She felt her knees buckle beneath her, her vision starting to blur as the man continued to bite her, injecting his venom.

John was already riding back home, happy that Dean had not interfered, considering his son did not know the extent of the punishment. “Where’s Y/N?” Dean asked, his arm stitched and cleaned up when John came home.

“I sent her on a hunt,” John said, only half lying.

Dean's face hardened at his father's response. He knew of John's harsh training methods, the brutal way he punished those who didn't live up to his impossible standards. "She's not ready for a solo hunt," Dean protested, his voice filled with worry.

“She’ll learn,” John said. “Like falling off a bike, right?”

Dean was silent for a moment, but then he shook his head, his face hardening. "This is different, Dad. And you know it. Y/N isn’t ready for this." He stood up, heading for the door, determination in his eyes.

“She’ll be fine,” John said, knowing he was completely lying at this point. “Get packed up, we’re going on our own hunt tomorrow.”

+++

Y/N woke up a day later, and felt different. Her body felt heavier, her senses heightened. She looked around, the warehouse now eerily silent. She touched her neck, wincing as her fingers brushed against the tender wound. She knew then, something had fundamentally changed within her. “Ow,” she mumbled as she got up. It was a habitual response to getting up after blacking out, but she realized she was never in pain.

She looked around the warehouse, only to find the man there. She grabbed the first wooden stick she could find. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the man said.

"Stay back," she warned, her voice shaky but determined. The man merely chuckled, an unsettling sound that echoed through the warehouse.

"You don't understand what's happening, do you?" he asked, a sinister smile playing on his lips.

“I know you hurt me,” she said. “You bit me.”

The man nodded. Even in the dark, she could see him perfectly. Y/N felt a wave of dread wash over her as the reality of her situation set in. She was a vampire, forever changed by a single, terrifying encounter. She had joined the hunt, but not in the way she had ever imagined. She now, became the hunted. “My father —” she started, but he interrupted her.

“Made a deal with me,” the vampire said. “He would spare my life, if that meant the second you messed up again, I would make you a part of my clan.”

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, her mind reeling. "No...no, you're lying!" she protested, but deep down, she knew it was the truth. This was her punishment, her penance for not being the perfect hunter John wanted her to be.

She backed away, her eyes wide with horror. "He wouldn't...he couldn't do that to me," she whispered, more to convince herself than anything else. But the vampire's smirk told her all she needed to know. “Dean wouldn’t let that happen.”

The vampire laughed, a chilling sound that echoed through the empty warehouse. "Dean doesn't know, and by the time he finds out, it'll be too late," he taunted, his gaze cold and merciless. "Welcome to your new life, Y/N."

Soon, she heard the familiar sounds of the Impala coming. She turned towards the noise, her heart pounding. She knew she couldn't let Dean see her like this. She quickly ducked behind a stack of crates as the Impala pulled up outside. “Get the knives,” John ordered. “It’s a small vamp’s nest, shouldn’t take long.”

As Dean exited the vehicle, Y/N watched from the shadows, her heart aching. She could smell both of their blood. She knew she had to hide, to run, but something held her in place. It was the bitter irony of her situation - she was now the prey in their hunt.

Her mind raced, and it blocked out all movement, all of her senses. She didn’t realize Dean was behind her. "Y/N?" Dean's voice was soft, filled with concern. She didn't dare turn around, she couldn't let him see her like this. But as she felt his hand on her shoulder, she knew it was too late.

She turned around slowly, her gaze meeting Dean’s. His eyes widened in shock as he took in her appearance. "Y/N, what the hell happened?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

She stepped back, where the shadows would hide her fangs. “Leave,” she said bitterly.

"But Y/N..." Dean started, his voice filled with confusion and worry. But she cut him off, her voice harsher than she intended, "Just go, Dean!" She watched as he hesitated, torn between his loyalty to his father and his concern for her. She pushed him back, a little too strong. He flew backwards, landing on the second floor.

The shock on Dean's face was palpable as he hit the ground, a sharp gasp escaping his lips. The night echoed with the sound of her frantic footsteps and Dean's stunned silence. “There’s a cure, Y/N,” Dean said silent enough for her to hear. “I can find it.”

“You’re luring me into a trap Dean,” she said. “I know you. It’s shoot first ask questions later, isn’t it? No matter the monster?”

"I... It's different with you, Y/N," Dean said, his voice barely a whisper in the darkness. "I won't give up on you. We're in this together, remember?" His words hung in the air, a beacon of hope amidst the despair.

But Y/N knew things were far from simple. She was now a part of the underworld they hunted, a creature of the night. “Find me when you have it,” she said before running into the night.

As Y/N disappeared into the pitch black, Dean was left standing alone in the frigid warehouse, her words echoing in his ears. He knew the path ahead was fraught with danger and uncertainty, but he was determined to find a cure and bring Y/N back. No matter what it took, he would not let her become a monster. “You turned her?!” Dean yelled to his father.

John turned and faced Dean, his expression unreadable. "It was necessary," he responded, his voice cold and detached. "This is her consequence for failing us."

Dean's anger flared at his father's words. "You had no right!" he spat, his fists clenching at his sides. "She's not a tool for your twisted training methods, she's family!" The tension between them hung heavy in the air, both men locked in a bitter standoff, their previous hunt forgotten.

John's gaze hardened. "You don't understand, Dean," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "This is the life we lead, the price we pay. Y/N had to learn that one way or another."

“What were you going to do?” Dean asked. “Kill her if I hadn’t found her?”

John's silence was all the answer Dean needed. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. "I won't let you hurt her anymore," Dean declared, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at him. "I'll find a cure, and you won't lay a hand on her again. As of right now, we’re done.”

John watched as Dean stormed off into the night, leaving him alone in the abandoned warehouse. He had never seen his son so determined, so protective. And as he stood there, a chilling realization crept over him. He had lost control, not just over Y/N, but over Dean as well.

+++

Dean spent the last year trying to find a cure, which also meant a year of the life he lost with his sister. He was constantly on the move, scouring libraries and reaching out to old contacts for information. Despite the exhaustion and the loneliness, he clung onto the hope that he could bring Y/N back to her human self. When he had found her, he was shocked at the transformation. She was no longer the girl he remembered. Her eyes were darker, her skin paler, and there was a coldness to her that he had never seen before. But in spite of it all, he could still see traces of his sister in her, the strong-willed girl who refused to back down from a challenge.

“Hello, Dean,” she said. Even her voice had changed.

"Y/N," he greeted, his voice filled with a mix of relief and worry. "I found it, the cure. We can make this right." His words hung heavy in the air, a promise he was determined to keep.

“I think I’m okay,” she said bitterly. “Now go, because I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

"But Y/N," Dean pleaded, his voice shaking. "You don't have to live like this. There's a chance for you to go back to your old life." His words echoed in the silence, a desperate plea for the sister he once knew.

“My old life?” she asked a menacing laugh in her. She jumped from the second floor of the shed to the ground, landing gracefully. “You mean the life where I was constantly under John's thumb, forever living in fear of disappointing him? Or the life where I was nothing more than a trainee, never good enough, always a liability?” Her words were like a slap in the face. A reminder that Dean had failed to protect her.

"No," Dean responded, his voice steady despite the hurt in his eyes. "I mean the life where you were my sister, where we looked out for each other, where we were a team." His voice was filled with a quiet desperation, his eyes pleading with her to understand.

“Even then,” she said. "I was a burden, never quite measuring up to your standards, or John's. This is my life now, Dean. I'm not the baby sister you oh-so feel obligated to protect anymore," Y/N said, her voice cold and distant.

"But Y/N," Dean replied, his voice filled with sorrow, "You were never a burden to me. You're my family and I'll do whatever it takes to help you. You don't have to face this alone."

Y/N looked at him, her eyes flashed anger, along with unshed tears. "I don't want your help, Dean. I've made my choice." She turned and walked away, but what she didn’t realize was that Dean had a plan. Bobby, her once surrogate father, and Sam, her brother, were behind her.

Suddenly, her body was pinned to the ground, a stake pressed against her, but not hurting her. Bobby's voice echoed in her ears, "Sorry, kiddo. But we're doing this for your own good." Sam was holding a vial of the cure Dean had found. As the liquid was forced into her mouth, Y/N knew her life was about to change once again.

Her body convulsed as the cure spread through her system, the transformation painful but necessary. The pain was quickly replaced with a sense of relief, as her once heightened senses began to dull and her fangs disappeared. She was human again, brought back from the monstrous existence she had been forced into. "Y/N," Dean's voice was soft, filled with relief and unshed tears. "Welcome back."

“I told you, I WAS FINE!” She said.

"But you weren't, Y/N," Dean replied, his voice filled with pain and concern. "You were hurting and we couldn't stand by and watch. We're your family and we'll always fight for you, no matter what."

“Oh boo fucking hoo,” she said. She could hear Sam stifle a laugh at her comment. They're was no more risks of danger since she was no longer immortal.

“Look, Y/N,” Bobby said sternly. “You have two options. Either come with us and hate us, or be on your own and hate us while being miserable.”

Y/N sighed, looking at the faces of the only family she had left. "Fine," she grumbled, "I'll stick with you guys. But don't expect me to be all sunshine and rainbows about it."

“So,” Sam said as they drove into the night. “How did immortality treat you?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. She was angry at her brothers and angry at herself. She stared out the window. “It was actually great,” she muttered. “I had a life un-ironically.”

"Sounds like a hell of a story," Dean commented, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Maybe one day you'll tell us about it." Y/N merely grumbled in response.

She didn't want to admit to her brothers that they were right. That she was in fact hurting and angry at John and hurting over the betrayal she's felt for nearly a year. However, they were her brothers. And she missed them.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn #spn family #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #bobby singer #sam and dean #winchester sister #y/n reader #imagine #angst with a happy ending #supernatural angst #john winchester hate club

58 notes · View notes