Supernatural Preferences, Imagines, and One-Shots

A Story Without Words (Dean)

  UM, hi... This is kinda depressing... I tried to make any sorta feels conection. This doesn't really have a point, but I hope you read and enjoy anyway~

People always gave her weird looks. In public, her own family, most of the people at her old university, but she just ignored them. It's not like she would say anything to them anyway, she doesn't talk. She's mute.
  Everybody has different conceptions of what 'mute' really is. But to her, it's being hurt so much that speaking was pointless. That if you connected with someone, they would just leave anyway so there was no true point to it.
  Yet she still had two odd friends. Sam and Dean Winchester. They treated her as a normal person, not really caring if she said anything to them, always finding a way to include her into things. And she doesn't know what she'd do without the two weirdos. The weirdos who hunt monsters for a living, though she did herself.
  She knew everyone had problems, another reason why she chose not to speak of her own. Why burden others with something that she could handle? Well, thought she could handle. She hasn't spoken to anyone in over 5 years, she's obviously able to handle her own. So why did it still hurt so much?
  After a boring travel to an old town somewhere in Virgina, she and the brothers quickly got a motel room, and started a hunt. The hunt was easy, they knew it was just a spirit trying to cause some harm. So when the boys, and her, burnt the body, the girl remained at the old house.
  She walked down to the basement, where she remembers seeing something. Smiling happily once she found it. A grand piano. Dust ridden and quite dirty, yet still in perfect tune. She takes a seat, looking around and listening, hearing nor seeing anything of great importance. She places a gentle hand onto the dusty white keys, listening with a slight smile as the note plays throughout the room, echoing slightly. And she plays more.
  Her fingers dance across the keys gracefully as she closes her eyes to remember. She remembers what the song on the radio she heard with Dean sounded like, and she begun to play it.
  Dean and her are definitely closest out of the brothers. She would leave little notes to Dean, and he'd do the same to her. She knew Dean probably thought of it as nothing more than a simple friendly gesture, but she though of it as something a young couple might do. Something romantic, yet she thinks she's not good enough for love.
  As she gets the tune to the song easily, she starts to hum.
  She remembers Dean comforting her as silent tears flowed down her cheeks when her mother died. She remembers him whispering sweet little nothing's into her ears, knowing they might ease her slightly. She wishes sometimes she could go back in time to moments like those. Not the pain, and sadness, but the happiness she felt to know that Dean actually cared. To know she want completely alone In a world filled with lonely people.
  Without realizing it, she had begun to sing. Her fingers dancing gracefully, her eyes closed in focus and contempt, her beautiful melodious voice echoing throughout the room.
  "What would I do without your smart mouth
Drawing me in, and you kicking me out
You got my head spinning, no kidding, I can't pin you down
What's going on in that beautiful mind
I'm on your magical mystery ride
And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me, but I'll be alright..."
  She stopped playing.
  Tick,
  Tock,
  Tick,
  Tock.
  The old house clock chimed. Yet she couldn't help but think. Would she really be alright? She betrays who she loves daily, just by not saying a word. She says she cares, yet she can't say it. Can she truly be happy?

  You may not understand. You probably still don't. But this girl, she was hurt. She was sad, depressed, and broken. Yet she somehow still found a way to smile. She didn't speak, yet could still feel pain. Didn't voice her thoughts, yet still managed to portray them. Those may not seem significant, they probably aren't to you. Because nobody else could truly understand.

  She didn't notice when Dean walked through the oddly neat, yet dirty, basement as she was gently humming. But Dean was glad he did. He could hear her.
  He slowly stepped forward, listening as she started to sing decently loud, remembering her nodding her head to the same song as it was playing on the radio after a long hunt. He remembers watching as she bobbed her head slowly and shortly, yet still a few strands of hair covered over her face. It was beautiful in his opinion, everything about her is.
  When she stopped singing, Dean could tell she was in thought. The way she fiddled with her hands and looked down showed it. He knew her too well.
  After only a few moments, Dean decides to break the silence.
  "That was beautiful." Dean spoke softly.
  The girl turned around quickly, mouth open like a fish in shock, along with shock portraying over the rest of her face. She finally closed her mouth and looked down again, standing from her seated position at the bench of the piano.
  "I-I'm sorry." She spoke quietly.
  "Don't be."
  Dean didn't understand what was truly going on. Sure, he was amazed that she was talking to him, that she was finally talking at all, but it was still greater than that. In reality, the girl just moved on. She passed up 5 years of her life, pointlessly. And now she wants it back, though she can never get it. She'll try harder. She'll yell, scream, but she won't be quiet any more. It's fast and sudden, she knows, but she's been pondering on the thought for months now. She looks Dean in the eyes, her arms down to her sides, a look of determination on her face.
"Dean Winchester, I love you." She told the man, who was shocked by the welcomed surprise.
  "I love you, too." Dean replied, hugging the girl.

You don't know who the girl is. She doesn't know herself, but she's getting there. Finding her own way. Not letting her past describe who she should be.

~Castiels_Pup