Chapter Text
Part 1 - Denial
The sound of Dean’s cell phone ringing is drowned out by the classic rock music blaring over the speakers in the Impala. Sam, who's been trying to turn the music down for the last ten minutes, is relieved when he sees an incoming call flashing on his brother’s phone.
“Dude! What have I told you? Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.” Dean scolds the second Sam turns the music down.
Sam gives his brother a heavy eye roll. “Bobby’s calling.”
“Oh.” Dean says with a sheepish smile reaching for his phone. “Baby sis must be driving him nuts.” He chuckles before answering. “Hey Bobby, we’re about 10 minutes out.”
“Well good for you. She ain’t here.” The surly old man huffs from his end of the call.
“What?!” Dean yells, slamming on the brakes bringing baby to a screeching halt in the middle of the thankfully empty backroad. “What do you mean she’s gone? How’d you lose her?”
“She’s a pissed off Winchester hell bent on sticking it to her older brother. That’s how. You know there’s no stopping that girl when she makes her mind up about something. She’s a lot like someone else I know.”
“Yeah, yeah I know. She’s just as hard headed as me, and that’s not a good thing.” Dean grumbles. “How much of a head start does she have?”
“I don’t know at least an hour. M’still trying to figure out how exactly she gave me the slip. If I wasn’t so irritated myself I’d be proud.” Bobby growls. “Happy hunting. Let me know when ya find her.”
Dean hangs up his phone and drops it on the seat. “Dammit (Y/N).” He mutters. “Sammy-“
“I’m already working on tracking her phone.” Sam interrupts, having overheard the entire conversation. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on between the two of you yet?”
“Huh? What are you talking about?” Dean squeaks out in a higher pitched voice than intended.
Sam rolls his eyes for a second time. “She’s always been a good kid Dean. She even made it through her teen years with minimal rebelling. Then out of the blue two months ago she started acting out, and only towards you.”
“She’s just mad I sidelined her on the whole Abaddon hunt. You know that. Come on, she almost died.” Dean defends. “And she’s still a kid to me, so this counts as rebelling.”
“No Dean, this is different. She’s been injured and sidelined by you before and she didn’t react to anything like this. So what aren’t you telling me?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say!” Dean says exasperatedly, throwing his hands in the air briefly for exaggeration. “That demon bitch almost killed her, and then I sidelined her. End of story.”
Sam side eyes his brother, deciding to bite his tongue for now, but he doesn’t believe that for a second. Clearly something noteworthy happened for you to start behaving so negatively. He can’t help but sigh though when he finally tracks the location of your phone and sees where you are. “She left her phone on…”
“Good, she probably forgot to shut it off in the middle of her tantrum.” Dean huffs.
“No I don’t think that’s it.” Sam sighs again. “I think she wants you to find her just to push your buttons some more.”
Dean’s frown deepens, and his eyes darken. “She’s at a damn bar isn’t she?” He’s been chasing the boys away with shotguns both figuratively and literally since you hit high school. And Sam’s lack of response is all the response he needs as he pushes the gas pedal to the floor.
Throwing back a shot of whiskey you smirk to yourself as you glance at your phone. Sam texted you about a dozen times, but you haven’t answered him since you know Dean should be here soon. If this doesn’t get his attention then you’re not sure what will.
He can’t deny the truth forever.
You love both of your brothers. But the love you and Dean have for each other has always felt different. Less familial and more like soul mates. You never knew how to voice that to him though.
Until two months ago.
On a hunt for Abaddon, a knight of hell, she damn near almost killed you. Thankfully Cas got to you in time and healed you. You’ve been hurt countless times before, but this was as near death as Dean has ever seen you. It clearly rattled him.
That night he had you sleep in his room so he could ‘keep an eye on you.’ Which didn’t seem very un-Dean-like at the time. He’s always been overprotective of you. So as you were lying in bed with him you could tell he was still pretty upset about what happened. To try and lighten the mood and keep his mind busy you started talking about anything lighthearted and non-monster related you could think of.
Ever so slowly his hardened frown turned into a soft adoring smile. A special smile he reserves just for you. Then suddenly, without warning, he’s rolling on top of you with his lips devouring yours.
For a moment you thought maybe Cas didn’t heal you and maybe you actually died and went to heaven. That wasn’t the case though.
Feelings Dean had been burying for years came flooding out that night. And you of course didn’t hesitate to reciprocate and kiss him back with everything you had. While also sharing your own hidden feelings.
Nothing happened beyond kissing and holding each other even though you would have happily taken it all the way. You fell asleep in his arms that night feeling the happiest you’d ever been.
But of course nothing was the same the next day. Reality hit and Dean freaked out. At first he tried acting like you lost your mind and made everything up. But when you wouldn’t let it go he freaked out even more and he yelled at you. “Because it’s wrong (Y/N)!” He screamed in your face when you began to cry, begging to know why he was denying his feelings and everything that happened.
He broke your heart that day and you’ve been fighting with him ever since trying to get him to embrace his feelings for once instead of stuffing them away.
“How about a dance darlin’?” The hottie sitting next to you says with a flirty smile extending his hand, offering for you to take it.
You shrug, throwing back another shot. “Why not? You’ve bought me a couple drinks. The least I could do is dance with you.” You smile back, taking his hand.
He pulls you through the crowd and out to the dancefloor where there’s lots of other people already dancing. “Tell me if I get too handsy.” He smirks, putting his hand on your hip and pulling you closer.
“Don’t worry I like a man who’s good with his hands.” You wink. Then you turn in his arms, putting your back against his front and rubbing your ass against his crotch.
They guy’s hands are all over you. You think he may have said his name was Jake, but you can’t be sure. Doesn’t really matter to you anyway. He’s the means for a good time and hopefully getting what you want.
You get lost in the rhythm of the music and even work up a sweat while also losing track of time. But you get a chill the moment you feel eyes on you. Looking over your shoulder, through the crowd, it wasn’t hard for you to spot him.
Dean.
And he looks just as pissed as you were hoping.
After throwing Dean a wink followed by a devious smirk you press your body up against Jake’s and move your lips to the shell of his ear so that he can hear you over the music. While you talk into his ear your eyes are on Dean’s. “Sorry it’s been great but my brother is here to break up the party. And I wouldn’t argue with him if I were you he’d tear you to pieces.” You say to the poor sap since he at the very least deserved a warning.
Dean has a look of fury in his eyes as he shoves his way through the crowd determined to get to you as quickly as possible. Which in reality only took him mere seconds before he reaches you. Without a word his hand grips your upper arm extra tight and pulls you along with him.
“Thanks for the good time Jake!” You giggle and wave goodbye to your former drinking and dance partner of the evening unphased by being dragged out of the bar just to piss your brother off more.
A rush of cool air hits you as you’re being pulled out the back door, and your body makes a loud thud as you're pushed up against the outside wall of the bar. The loud noises from the bar are immediately silenced when the back door shuts. But the silence lasts only a second. “This is bullshit (Y/N)!” Dean seethes with his hands firmly planted on your shoulders.
“Finally something we both agree on.” You chide with a sarcastic smile.
Dean shakes his head scowling at you disapprovingly. “This crap needs to stop. Sam’s asking questions now. Enough is enough (Y/N).”
“So. Let him ask questions. Doesn’t mean he has to get answers.” You shrug.
“(Y/N).” Dean sighs tiredly, removing one of his hands from you pinching the bridge of his nose like he’s nursing a headache. “What-“
“You already know the answer to that question.” You huff, cutting off his words. “You already know what I want. And I know what you’re afraid to want.” You growl putting your hands on his jacket, pulling him closer to you so his body is pressed against yours. He makes no attempts to pull away because deep down he doesn’t want to. He likes being this close to you. Which just makes his denial so much more incredibly frustrating when he can literally have what he wants. You’re practically begging for it. “Answer me this Dean. How did you feel when you saw me dancing with that guy?”
He lets out a sound that somewhat resembles a growl mixed with a groan. His free hand moves to your waist gripping you tight and his forehead drops to your shoulder. “I want to tear that guy apart piece by piece and bury him alive. He shouldn’t be touching you.”
Okay that’s a start. You think to yourself. “Why shouldn’t he be touching me?”
You feel Dean’s chest rise and fall as he breathes in a deep breath through his nose. You get goosebumps when you feel his nose against your neck. “You’re wearing the perfume that I like.”
You're not sure if that was him intentionally avoiding your question or if he unintentionally got sidetracked. But your patience has run thin when it comes to this topic. “Dean, look at me.” You say almost pleadingly.
After a couple beats of silence he lifts his head from your shoulder but he averts his eyes. So you put your hands on his face to get him to look at you. The moment his sad green eyes look into yours you can see the internal struggle he’s having. He knows you’re good at reading him so he averts his shame filled eyes away again as he rests his forehead against yours.
It would take no effort at all for you to press your lips against his. That’s how close he is. But you want him to make the first move. You want him to stop denying how he feels for you and for him to show you. “Dean I know you felt what I felt that night. I know you feel how I feel. So why are you fighting it?”
For the briefest of moments you think he may give in and kiss you. His breath ghosts across your lips. His hands squeeze you tighter. But all hope is lost when he abruptly pulls away repeating, just above a whisper, the words that make your heart shatter all over again. “Because it’s wrong (Y/N).”