Supernatural One Shots

I'll be back / Dean

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping and torture
Pairing: Dean and Y/N

The bunker hummed with life, the machinery forming a constant backdrop to the night's tranquility as I gradually surfaced from the depths of sleep. I looked around the room, rubbing my eyes as I turned to see Dean, his tousled hair and rugged features softened by the muted lighting. The memories of the night before lingered, pulling the sheets further up my nude chest. I watched as he slowly disentangled himself from the warmth of the blankets, lifting himself from the safe haven of our bed.

"Dean, what's wrong?" I sighed, reaching out for him.

"Sam and I have to leave for that hunt we discussed last night." He grumbled, the bunker's cool air contrasting with the residual heat left behind. He grabbed a few things from his dresser, throwing some in a duffle bag and the rest on the end of our bed. I propped myself up on my elbow, my gaze following him as he moved with a practiced ease through our shared space.

"Hunt? What hunt?" I frowned, not remembering them talking about it whatsoever.

"Shit..." Dean rubbed his face, crawling back onto the bed, trying to pull me into a hug. " Sam and I thought it might be a good idea for you to sit this out; I guess we completely forgot to tell you about it."

"What! Why?" I cried out, pushing him away. "Why in the hell can't I go? I'm just as good a hunter as you and Sammy."

Dean attempted to hug me again, a mixture of determination and hesitation on his face. "It's not that Y/NN; it's just the stuff this case has. We know what you've gone through and that you're still healing."

Memories flash through my mind, taking me back two months to a hunt gone wrong. It was supposed to be a straightforward salt and burn, but we had everything wrong. It wasn't a ghost but a demon wanting to get us in a vulnerable place. It had taken me, hiding me away to get Sam and Dean to chase. I was put through hours of verbal and physical torture until the boys found us, taking the demon out after a grueling fight. I fell into a deep depression; I went weeks before I even trusted myself enough to leave the bunker. Even now, two months later, I'm still struggling with confidence while hunting, worried that something might happen to myself or the boys. I've never struggled with anxiety and depression like this.

Dean finally pulled you into a hug, holding you in his lap. "Whatever we're going after is doing the same thing that happened to you to girls with the same physical features as you, y/n. This thing isn't only hurting them but killing them after the end of the games it plays. Sam and I didn't want to trigger you with the details; better yet, it gets hold of you."

I tilted my head, meeting his gaze, and found a depth of emotion mirrored in his eyes. Dean's fingers gently traced soothing patterns on my back, a gentle reminder that he was here for me no matter what. I nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the understanding that existed between us.

As he leaned in, his lips pressed against my forehead in a tender kiss. "I'll be back before you know it," he whispered, his warm breath caressing my skin.

"Just give me some more time," I sighed, rubbing my eyes to get rid of the forming tears. "I'll be back and better in no time."

"I have no doubt y/n, none at all. We all have moments when we need to take a break. I've had mine, and Sam has had his." Dean lingered momentarily, his eyes searching mine for unspoken concerns. With a final, lingering gaze, he reluctantly released his hold and lifted you from his lap, getting off the bed. "Wanna walk us out, or do you wanna stay in bed?"

"I'll walk you out," I mumbled, not super excited for the few days I'll spend alone in the bunker.

Dean shook his head, his hand finding mine as he handed me one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers. A fleeting, affectionate smile crossed his lips. "Take care of things here. I'll be back before you even have time to miss me."

I rose out of bed, dressing myself as Dean gathered his items. He carried his arsenal with the ease of a seasoned hunter, his eyes focused on the task. I walked beside him, my steps matching his as we walked into the hallways and through the various rooms to reach the garage. The ambient hum of the bunker's machinery underscores the gravity of the moment.

As we reached the door, Dean paused, his hand gripping the worn handle. He turned to face me, his eyes meeting mine with reassurance and acknowledgment. "I'll be back, you know that," Dean said, the rough edges of his voice softened by a touch of sincerity.

I nodded, a subtle gesture conveying trust and a lingering worry. The door creaked open, revealing the garage bathed in the muted light of the overhanging lights. The Impala, a symbol of countless journeys and hardships, was parked in the center of the room, surrounded by other classic cars. Sam stood before the infamous black car, his bags at his feet.

Dean turned back to me, his hand finding mine. A fleeting, affectionate smile crossed his lips. "Take care of things here."

A mix of emotions lingered in the air as we shared a quiet moment. Dean pressed a brief kiss to my forehead, a gesture that held more than words could express. Then, with a final glance, he entered the garage, walking towards Sam and Baby.

I stood at the entrance; the sound of the Impala's engine roared to life, gradually fading into the distance as it took off down the tunnel to the outside world. Left in the wake of his departure, I held onto the echoes of his promises and the anticipation of his return, knowing that eventually, he'd be back home and I'd be able to get back into hunting.