Fighter: Dean Winchester (REVAMPED VERSION)

love wιll вrιɴɢ yoυ нoмe; pαrт ғoυr

"I didn't know you could sing."

"Well, it's not like it's a hobby or anything," Nadia said, her cheeks coloring as she sat down next to Dean.

The two of them sat in the quiet warmth of the fire, the others having gone inside to clean up. It felt good, this rare moment of calm. "If anything, I made the mistake of singing all those years ago."

Dean smiled, nudging her gently. "No, it was beautiful."

Her lips curved into a smile, but it faded quickly. "Why didn't you want to do it? Were you nervous about singing in front of me?"

"No," Nadia rolled her eyes playfully, leaning against him. "It's just... I feel like I'm relearning that home and family aren't always what they're cracked up to be."

Dean's brow furrowed slightly. "You talkin' about your mother?"

"Yeah," she murmured. "This Thanksgiving makes me question every one of them I had with her. All those holidays, every ordinary day... How am I supposed to feel about her memories now? About our relationship? The obvious answer is to let it go, right? Find peace in the fact that she loved me. But it's hard."

Dean exhaled softly, understanding. "I know it takes time."

Nadia sighed, the weight of it all pressing down on her as she snuggled closer, wrapping herself around his arm. "I've been meaning to ask... how've you been, after telling Sam about Hell?"

Dean chuckled lightly, a hint of discomfort in his voice. "I was kinda hopin' you wouldn't ask."

"Why?" she asked, lifting her head to look at him.

"Because, though I told him the truth... there's more. About my feelings. It's hard to say out loud, but... I liked it."

The reflection of the fire danced in his eyes, but there was something darker there too, something haunted.

"I wasn't just torturing souls because I had to. I did it because I enjoyed it. All those years, all that pain... finally, I got to make others feel it too. I didn't care who they put in front of me. Because that pain I'd been carrying for so long? It just slipped away."

Nadia stayed silent, her gaze fixed on the flickering embers as they spiraled into the sky.

Dean glanced at her. "You don't seem bothered by anything I just said."

She shrugged, keeping her tone light. "Oh, is this the part where I call you a monster and tell you I never want to see you again?"

Dean smirked but it was strained. "Yeah, actually," he joked, though his voice was laced with tension. "Look, I know I can be a bit of a softy, but my dark side... it's pretty dark, Nadia."

"You think I didn't know that when I decided to be your girlfriend?" Nadia shot back, a playful but serious glint in her eyes. "I knew exactly what I was getting into when I brought you home to my family for Thanksgiving."

Dean looked at her, a mix of surprise and vulnerability in his gaze. "I'm just bein' honest. I'm tryin' to keep things open with you. I'm not hiding anything."

"And I appreciate that," Nadia said, squeezing his hand. "But don't talk to me like you're some freakin' monster. You got dealt a crappy hand in life, Dean. So if someone offers you the chance for revenge when you're at your lowest? I expect you to take it. You're only human, and so am I. I'm not gonna look you in the face and pretend I wouldn't have done the same thing."

She intertwined her fingers with his, her touch steady and grounding.

"Look," she continued, her voice softer now, "I know you think you're a monster. And maybe you were one down there. But that's the thing about second chances. You don't have to carry that title around forever. You can change. You can forgive yourself — in time, of course. What you did in Hell doesn't take away everything you've done for others. It doesn't erase the amazing man sitting right here in front of me."