Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam (mentioned)
Word Count: 985
Warnings: dean fluff, thinking of Sam and your life with him
Author’s Note: In this, the reader and Dean are 23 years old.
“How long do you think this will go on for?” You asked, sitting in the front seat of the Impala with Dean. You two were on a stakeout in place of John since he was too busy to do this. You three were hunting a nasty werewolf and you had to find out of the person you thought was it, was actually it.
If you saw someone leave this house, you would be on their ass in seconds, demanding to know what was going on. You and Dean have been going on more hunts alone than going on hunts with John. You had no idea what could possibly be more important but whenever you brought it up, he would always scold you and drop it.
“What do you mean, the hunt?” Dean asked, looking at you.
“No, I mean this life. Do you think we’ll ever be done?” You asked with a sigh.
“No, I think there will always be something out there, killing innocent people, and if we leave, who is going to save them?”
“You’re right.” You said, looking back at the house.
“You know what helps me get through it?” Dean asked.
“What?”
“You,” Your head whipped around to see if he was joking. Did he really think about you like that? “Sammy, my dad, even my mom. I think about all the good times we had together. It makes it easier.”
Of course, he wouldn’t think of you like that.
“Do you miss Sam?” You asked.
“All the time. I hated how he left things with me and my dad. They are always fighting and right when I think I know why it changes and I’ve left in the cold again. I hate it.”
“You know, I just think that he wanted more. He never liked hunting and I don’t blame him. It’s tough and not that he wasn’t tough enough, I just think of it as he just wasn’t ready. He’ll come back, eventually. Hopefully. He seemed to be happy at college.” You said, not thinking about what you were saying.
“What?”
“What?” You asked, looking into Dean’s eyes.
“Did you go visit Sam?” He asked, scrunching his brows together.
“Remember that hunt that took us to California? You asked me where I was and I said on a walk? I was at Stanford. I knew that if I told you or even your dad, you two wouldn’t let me go.”
“I wish you would have told me. I would have helped you.” Dean said, looking down.
“It’s okay, Dean, you can say the words. I know you miss him.” You said softly.
“Yeah, a lot,” Dean whispered back, looking at you. “Is he happy?”
“Yeah, he is. He met a very nice girl named Jessica. I ran into her at the party that was being thrown. Don’t worry, Sam never knew I was there. God, you should have seen his face, he was so happy. I couldn’t make myself know. I couldn’t take that away from him.” You said, sighing.
“No, yeah, you’re right. Next time, though, let me know because I want to come with you.” You nodded and he smiled, not knowing what to say now.
“What’s your favorite memory? Any kind of memory of us, you and Sam, you and John, anything.” You asked in a whisper. You moved closer to him but he didn’t seem to mind it.
“The earliest memory that I have of you.” He said, smiling softly.
“Do tell.” You asked, intrigued by this.
“It was the day you found me in the bathroom, balling my eyes out. I was 6-years-old and I was sad about my mom and I didn’t want to see anyone so I don’t know why I picked the bathroom to hide in. Anyways, you come waltzing in with your bag of Legos, demanding to know to what was wrong.” Dean said with a smile.
“Oh, that’s right. You were a stubborn ass. I was just doing what I had to do.” You giggled softly.
“You told me that you would share your mom with me. I know we met a year before that but at that moment, I knew.”
“Knew what?” You whispered.
“That you would be my best friend. I was right. 18 years later, you’re still my best friend.” He said with a smile.
“I was going to be your best friend no matter what you said.” You smiled, looking down.
“What is your favorite memory?” He asked, wanting to know.
“You know, you were my first kiss. Ever. I remember being humiliated by that douche, I forget his name. I remember walking home that night, crying my eyes out, and there you were, saving me like you always do. Then you said some nice words to me and you kissed me. Remember that?” You asked, looking into his eyes.
“Yeah, I do remember.” Dean said, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear. You didn’t know if it was because he was so close to you, or that his hand was on your cheek, or it was dark, or whatever the case was but you found yourself inching closer and closer to him.
This was it. This was the moment that would be forever yours. Your eyes never left his jade eyes and somewhere, in those beautiful green irises, you knew he wanted this too. You closed your eyes, expecting to feel the soft skin on yours but it never came.
There was a loud bang and a roar come from the house you were watching. Dean pulled away and you opened your eyes, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying.
“Sweetheart, we have to move now.” Dean said, grabbing the guns on the floor of the car. He handed one to you and got out of the car, immediately running to the house.
Maybe you and Dean just weren’t meant to be together.
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