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whispersandwhiskerburn · 6 years

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Live to Fight Another Day

Summary: Part 1 of a 2 part suspense/angst fic: a hunt goes terribly wrong for the reader and the Winchesters while Dean battles with his guilt. Canon style. Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 2,430 Warnings: This is going to be an angsty one, folks. SFW. Also, cliffhanger. Author’s Note: This was a combination fic: the title came from Rebekah (@impala-dreamer)’s “Titles are Hard”Challenge, but the gif below and the bolded line came from Jess (@wi-deangirl77)’s “Fave SPN Episode Challenge” where she gave me a gif and a line from my favorite episode “Lazarus Rising”. When my bestie @waywardjoy picked the same episode for this challenge, we decided to combine our efforts and write a two part fic set in season 3 right after the “Jus in Bello” episode. When the Queen of Angst posts the second part, I will link it HERE as well as at the end of the fic. FEEDBACK IS LIFE, PEOPLE. Without further ado, the Queen of Canon presents part one of this fic:

Dean woke up from a new nightmare, the sheet sticking to the sweat on his chest as tried not to wake Y/N in the bed next to him.

He could still hear the voices of Henriksen, the cop he’d gotten killed, and Nancy, the virgin from the police station. Also dead because of him.

New ghosts to haunt him. Just what Dean needed.

“Babe, you okay?” Y/N mumbled, barely awake and reaching for him to comfort.

Dean didn’t know what he’d done to deserve her, but he pulled her close anyway and let her warmth and nearness chase away the ghosts.

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Just a nightmare. Go back to sleep.”

She snuggled into him, and Dean spooned around her, steadying his breath and heartbeat to match hers as she drifted back off to sleep. He shot a glance over at Sam and found his brother passed out, then tried to copy the two of them.

He’d learn to close his eyes again without seeing the faces of those people. It might take some violence, some alcohol, and some time, but he’d find a way. He always did.

When Dean finished his shower the next morning, he walked out into a tense room.

“Just because she’s a--”

“Demon, Sam. She’s a demon. And I don’t trust her. Knife, no knife; advice, no advice. She’s working an angle, and I’m not going to let you fall into her trap.”

Sam threw up his hands, apparently recognizing the tone in Y/N’s voice. Dean knew that when she was that adamant about something, there was no way either Winchester would be getting his way, despite their legendary stubbornness.

Dean raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend, but didn’t ask anything when she shook her head no. He could stay out of it. For now.

“So, what’s the plan? We got a case?”

Sam shot a glance at Y/N, then turned to pour himself a coffee in the crappy kitchenette of the cheap hotel.

Y/N spoke up, “maybe. I picked up a police report on the scanner of some missing backpackers in the national forest about 50 miles from here. I talked to Bobby, and he said there’s some demon signs in the area, so it might be our kind of thing.”

Dean made a face which Y/N interpreted correctly. “I know, I know, a devil’s gate was opened recently and there’s demon signs everywhere these days. It’s a thin lead, but....”

Sam muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “which is exactly what I said,” which Y/N pointedly ignored.

The two of them looked to Dean, evidently waiting for him to make the call.

He thought about his nightmares, how all he wanted to do was take a damn break and be happy to have his brother alive, and his girlfriend in his arms. He wanted to get the Colt back, and he wanted to find a way out of this deal that had his soul bound for Hell. He wanted to forget about ghosts and guilt and the blood on his hands and just be a normal man, for once in his life.

But people don’t always get what they want. So Dean did what he always did: forced a smile and a quip, put on a brave face, and got on with the job.

“Hey, I just got outta jail. Bring it.”

Y/N’s look to Sam screamed I told you so! As she grabbed her bag and started repacking it for the road.

“I’ll see you two male models in the car in five then, ‘kay?”

The Winchesters both grunted their agreement and moved to get ready themselves as she headed to the motel office to check out.

Even with his life on a timer, the job never ended.

Before they rolled out of Nowheresville, or whatever this tiny town was, Dean pulled into a gas station to fill up Baby’s tank, and sending Sam inside to get some road-food before they started hunting.

Dean was surprised when Y/N got out of the car too, and even more so when she didn’t follow Sam in to visit the bathroom. Instead, she leaned against Baby’s door next to him with her arms crossed over her chest, her tee-shirt already sticking to her skin in the mid-morning heat.

“Okay, Dean. Spill.”

He raised his eyebrows at her in what he hoped was an innocent expression. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Recently.

“What?”

“Whatever it is that’s crawled inside that thick skull of yours and is making you so grim.”

Dean went to protest, but she held a hand up, cutting him off. “Yeah, yeah, you’ve kept a smile on. You know I can see through that shit. So can Sam, but he’s less willing to call you on it, especially now.” Dean’s face tightened.

“Is that what’s bothering you? Your deal?”

He looked at the pump, hoping it was almost done so he could get back in the car and avoid this conversation. The numbers seemed to be dragging.

“If it’s your deal, you shouldn’t let it bother you that much. We all know why you did it--and we’re not going to stop until we find a way to get you out of it. No matter what you say.”

Dean had made his thoughts clear on that subject in the past. Bobby, Sam, Y/N, Jo, and Ellen continued to ignore his warnings and there wasn’t much he could do about it.

But Y/N was staring at him, expectant. Dean sighed, knowing she wouldn’t let it go till he said something.

“It’s not my deal, or the fact that all of you have signed up for a lost cause trying to save me. Well, maybe that’s part of it. But mostly it’s the lost cause that seems to be my entire life--trying to save people and losing them anyway. Over and over and over again. Mom. Dad. I couldn’t save Jess for Sam. Everywhere I go, bodies drop, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Not really.”

Y/N’s eyes had become soft and understanding. He didn’t know why he’d said all that. He always said to much when he talked to her.

Her voice was gentle, and a teasing smile was on her face when Y/N spoke again, “so, you’re not worried about yourself, like a sane person would be. Your time’s ticking down, your life and soul on the line, and you’re sunk in survivor’s guilt, of all things.

“Dean Winchester, I want you to hear me. This job we do--it’s dark and depressing as hell 99% of the time. For every monster we face, there will always be another one, no one ever thanks us, and we all know we’ll probably die bloody somewhere along the way. We do what we can, but we can never save everyone. That’s just not how the world works.”

“Gee, thanks. I feel loads better now.” Dean finally heard the clunk as the old gas pump finished filling up the tank and busied his hands with the gas cap and the nozzle while Y/N waited for him to look at her again.

“Dean, guilt is as much a part of this life as booze and bullets. But letting it eat at you because you survived when someone else didn’t? That’s stupid. Saving people is part of the job description--and you’re a person. Sometimes, saving yourself is the win, especially when it’s all you can do. At least then you live to fight another day, to save someone else and yourself again another time. That’s important too.”

Her voice was serious, and Dean could tell this was something she had put a lot of thought into. Y/N had been raised a hunter like Sam and him. He knew she’d probably gone through this before, and he wanted to listen to her.

But he couldn’t. Not right now. Not with the faces of Nancy and Henriksen and the other people they were probably going to get killed because of that damn demon gate.

So he smiled and nodded, and she frowned, clearly seeing through him. He could tell she wanted to keep talking, but thankfully, when she saw Sam coming out of the gas station, she held her tongue and moved to get back into the car. Dean knew he hadn’t heard the last of this, but he was glad for the reprieve.

Sam reached the car and opened the passenger door, tossing in two bags of snacks before leaning on top of the cab. “I called the local cops while I was shopping, got directions to the campsite where the hikers went missing. We should be able to get there in about an hour, hour and a half.”

“Sounds good.” Dean ducked into the Impala and started her engine, pausing long enough for Sam to get settled and to pull out a bag of potato chips before pulling out onto the highway and on to their next hunt.

“It looks like we have to hike the rest of the way from here.” Sam was looking at a walking trail map that he’d picked up at the entrance to the state park, his fingers tracing the route to where the report said the missing hikers had been camping at.

“Awesome.” Dean smiled at Y/N’s sarcasm and the three of you piled out of the Impala, grabbing the necessary gear and following Sam’s lead into the woods.

The day was heating up, the temperature already in the mid 80s and Dean was sweating after just a few minutes of hiking. He stripped off his outer layer, tying it around his waist as he navigated the trail. To make the climb a little more enjoyable, he focused on watching Y/N’s ass instead of dwelling on the heat as he followed her into the woods, the last in their small line of three.

The plan was to find the campsite and look for sulfur or EMF readings. If they didn’t see either, it probably wasn’t their kind of case, and they’d leave it to the regular cops to find these people. Dean felt a little more guilt piled on at the thought of abandoning lost people, but there were just too many supernatural threats out in the world that they could be protecting people from. The natural ones had to be left to those out of the hunting life to take care of.

His thoughts and hike were interrupted as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

“Hang on a second, guys,” Dean pulled his cell out and saw one of Bobby’s numbers before accepting the call. “Yeah, Bobby, what’s up?”

“Dean? I need--there’s--you and--” There was static and Bobby’s voice was hard to understand.

“Bobby? Can you hear me?”

More static. When Dean glanced at the phone, he saw that the call had been disconnected.

He glanced at Y/N and Sam, “I must be out of range. I’m going to cut through to the maintenance road on the map,” he pointed off in the woods to the west, “ and walk back towards the entrance until I can get a signal again, see what Bobby wants, then I’ll catch up with you two, okay?”

Sam nodded and Y/N finished taking a drink of water before speaking, “sounds good. Watch your back and we’ll see you in a few.”

Dean handed off his bag so he could move faster and struck off into the woods. The trees weren’t so close together, and after barely a minute of walking he could see the maintenance road. Walking on it was a lot quicker and easier than the rough hiking trail, and he kept a good pace, checking his phone signal every 30 yards or so.

Finally, he got enough bars to place the call.

“Bobby? Can you hear me?”

“Dean! You three need to be careful. I did some digging on the area that Y/N told me about. There’s demon signs in the region, but the disappearances date back way before the demon’s gate. Every ten to twenty years, people go missing. I know you’re in Colorado, not Michigan, but it looks to me like--”

Dean had already done the math. “Wendigo. It’s a damn wendigo.”

“Probably. You’re packing flares, right?” Bobby sounded concerned, and the connection was faulty, but Dean could still tell what he said.

“Yeah, I think there’s some in my bag or Y/N’s, probably Sam’s too. I’ve got to go, Bobby, I split off to get you back on the phone.”

“Be careful.”

Dean had already hung up and was jogging back towards where he had got on the service road when he heard the scream.

Y/N.

“Y/N! Sam!” He picked up the pace, sprinting now.

Part of his mind was telling him to be careful, that that a wendigo could mimic voices, that it might be a trap. But when he heard another scream from Y/N, his body responded without his mind, and he took off through the woods toward the sound, calling out her name, and Sam’s, desperate to find them.

He had to save them. Dean couldn’t stand to lose either of them.

He found the trail and raced down it, tripping once on a root and falling, skinning his hands and landing hard on a knee. Dean pushed himself up again, cursing under his breath, his heart pounding as he raced through the woods.

Everything was quiet now, which scared him almost as much as the screams.

He almost tripped over his bag when he rounded a curve in the trail, but he caught himself this time. Sam was laid out under a tree a yard away and Dean rushed over to his brother. There was no blood, no wounds, but Sam wasn’t moving.

He felt for a pulse and let out a shaky sigh of relief when he found it strong in Sam’s neck. He looked around, but other than some claw marks on the tree above Sam and in the dirt a few feet away, there was no sign of the monster.

Y/N wasn’t there either.

It was late afternoon now, the sun was already starting to set, and Y/N had been taken by a wendigo. Dean felt like his stomach was sinking in his abdomen as he shook his unresponsive brother, and tried to think of a way to save her.

He would save her. Dean would not have Y/N haunt him too.

Part 2 HERE by @waywardjoy!

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