Fighter: Dean Winchester (REVAMPED VERSION)

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"So, what about you?"

Dean and Nadia walked side by side on their way back to the motel. The sun dipped low behind the mountainous terrain, painting the sky in shades of gold and amber, the horizon glowing like a beacon in the distance.

"What about me?" Dean stared at the ground, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets.

"What would your wish be? I mean, unless the sandwich was really it."

"It was a really good sandwich," he grinned, his dimples showing just enough to make her roll her eyes. "But no, it wouldn't be my wish."

"So . . ." Nadia pressed, her curiosity piqued.

Dean exhaled sharply, kicking a loose rock on the pavement. "I don't know. Maybe that I'd never asked Sam to help me find our father. That way, maybe he could've stayed in school, become a lawyer, got married by now—had a couple of kids. He'd have had a normal life."

"Hold on." Nadia came to an abrupt stop, turning to face him. Her tone was firm but not unkind. "Indulge me for a second. Let's put Sam aside. I get it—I'm an older sibling too. But if Sam was taken care of, what would you want for yourself?"

Dean opened his mouth, but no words came out. He closed it again, brows furrowing like the question had caught him off guard.

"Yeah," Nadia scoffed lightly, crossing her arms. "I don't know how to answer that either. All I know is Nadia the hunter, Nadia the big sister, and Nadia Rufus Turner's daughter. Now, I'm also an angel—this whole other side of me I didn't even know existed. It's like I'm supposed to figure out who I am all over again. That's why I wished to talk to my mom. Just for help, guidance . . . because outside of all that, I don't know who I am or even what I'd want if I could wish for anything. I can't fathom being anything else."

Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of the little boy from earlier—the one who'd been chased by the bullies. Only now, he was chasing them.

Dean followed her gaze.

The kid skidded to a stop, scowling up at Dean. "You got a problem, mister?"

Dean raised his eyebrows, then furrowed them, taken aback. "What? No."

The boy sneered, then turned on his heel and ran after the bullies again, leaving Dean and Nadia standing in stunned silence.

"Uh, okay," Dean chuckled, shaking his head. "That's something we'll have to deal with later."

"Yeah, definitely," Nadia laughed softly. "Anyway, what was I saying?"

"Finding yourself outside of hunting and—"

"Right, right." Nadia nodded as if picking up a thread she hadn't quite let go of. "My mom left Heaven. She left being a celestial being to just be a wife, a mom, and a CNA. And she was happy—fulfilled, from what I remember."

"What's your point?"

"I don't know," she sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly. "I guess I'm saying, Sam aside, there's nothing you'd wish for, for you? You can't picture yourself in another life, where, I don't know, you opened up a car shop, married some rocker chick who can shoot whiskey and beat your ass in pool? Maybe have some kids with her."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Did you just describe yourself?"

Nadia blinked, then shrugged innocently. ". . . No? I was just, um, describing your type. Or at least one of your types, lover boy."

Dean chuckled, shaking his head as he briefly looked away.

"I'd even settle for you wishing solitude for yourself," Nadia continued, tilting her head. "A cabin in the woods, a lake nearby where you can fish, and an endless supply of burgers and beer."