Fighter: Dean Winchester (REVAMPED VERSION)

🌶 worтн ιт;pαrт тwo 🌶

The Wild West was Dean's theme of choice. It was the first costume that caught his eye when they arrived at the party store. The theme seemed to fit—wild, free, and fun, a nod to the carefree moments they rarely got to experience. 

They picked up some decorations, snacks, a cake, beer, and a pizza. While waiting for the pizza to be ready, Nadia wandered into an antique store and came across a dusty old Polaroid camera. It felt like the perfect addition to the night—if they were going to make memories, she might as well capture them.

Surprisingly, taking pictures hadn't crossed her mind before. After all, she'd lost so much of her own history. It wasn't until she came across childhood drawings that she had rediscovered fragments of herself. Old pictures were like keys unlocking memories she'd thought forgotten. And with the way things were unfolding, it felt increasingly important to hold on to those tangible moments, whether good or bad.

Back at the cabin, Nadia and Dean wasted no time. They transformed the small living room into a country-western birthday bash. Neutral-colored balloons hung from the ceiling, and cowboy-themed streamers were taped along the walls. A cheerful "Happy Birthday" banner fluttered in the soft breeze from the open window, and an old radio crackled as it played some country-rock hits in the background.

Nadia, always the first to get ready, laid out the snacks, set up a few games, and reheated the pizza.

"Dean! You almost ready?" she called out, snapping a picture of herself with the Polaroid. The photo printed out with a soft whir, and she grinned, glad the camera worked perfectly despite its age.

"Dean!" she called again, this time louder. "The pizza's gonna get cold."

"I'm ready, I'm ready," Dean's voice echoed down the hall. Moments later, he appeared, dressed in full cowboy gear.

He wore a long-sleeved black western shirt with intricate embroidered roses, worn jeans with brown leather chaps, and a pair of cowboy boots that clicked with every step. On his head sat a wide-brimmed hat, and for good measure, he had strapped his pistol to his belt.

Dean cleared his throat dramatically. "Howdy," he drawled, gripping his belt with a dopey grin spreading across his face.

"Look at you, cowboy," Nadia beamed, her eyes lighting up as she raised the camera to her face. She snapped a quick photo of him.

Dean tipped his hat, striking a pose.

"Oh my gosh," Nadia waved the photo dry and glanced at it. "You're the sexiest cowboy I've ever seen."

"Right back at ya," Dean grinned, spinning around before pulling her into a kiss.

Nadia laughed, shaking her head as she pulled away. "We should eat the pizza before it gets cold," she said, tugging him toward the kitchen.

Dean grabbed a slice right out of the box, barely pausing to chew before taking another bite.

"Can't forget the beer," she said, grabbing two cold bottles from the fridge. "And I raided my father's stash," Nadia added, gesturing toward a bottle of whiskey on the counter. "You know he always has the good stuff."

Dean eyed the bottle warily. "Hm."

"What?"

"How about we stick to beer tonight?" Dean said, his tone light but serious. "I don't wanna get... carried away. I wanna remember this."

Nadia raised an eyebrow, surprised by his restraint, but hid it with a smile. "Of course. Whatever you want, birthday boy." She put the whiskey back in the cabinet.

As if on cue, the opening chords of the Allman Brothers Band's Ramblin' Man began to play.

"I love this song," Dean said, turning up the volume as he grabbed Nadia's hand. "Dance with me?"