Broken Apart (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Research

Slamming the ancient tome onto the table, you coughed at the dust storm you created. This was the third book in the last hour you had gotten down from the seldom used shelves, and you were starting to get cranky and annoyed, not to mention filthy.

It didn't help matters that this was the fourth day in a row you had been stuck doing research in the library of the bunker with Sam while Dean was off trying to find a way to kill Abadon.

You thought back to when you had first met the Winchesters, three years ago. You had been busy dividing your time between school and hunting, a dangerous and exhausting combination. Many hunters had laughed in your face, telling you how stupid you were. To them, college was a big waste of time, it was never going to teach you how to kill a Rugaru, or the best way to hunt down a Wendigo. It was just a way to distract you, and end up getting you killed.

You knew that it was a useless endeavor, but it had been your parents greatest wish that you would get a college degree. Before they could see that dream fulfilled, they had been killed by a Demon, who then vanished into thin air. Giving up on finding him, you made sure you had your G.E.D., then fulfilled your promise, and enrolled in classes, deciding your best course of action was to get a degree in ancient mythology. Maybe in the long run it would help your hunting life. Because there was no way you were going to quit being a hunter.

Long story short, you had graduated, and the next week you had been given the chance to finally avenge your parents death. But when you had finally cornered the demon at an old estate, two men were already there, with a bloody lifeless body laying on the floor in front of them. Striding over, you stopped beside them, and watched as they stared at you curiously.

One was tall, at least 6 foot 4 inches, a lanky build hidden beneath layers of clothing. His hair was a deep, rich mahogany that was smooth and shiny, curling slightly at his shoulders. His face was chiseled, with sharp cheek bones and a slightly pointed chin. His eyes were a brilliant hazel, with a kindness and depth you hadn't expected to see in a hunter. He was handsome, maybe not the modeling type, but in the boy next door fashion.

It was the man standing next to him that took your breath away. He was tall, but not nearly as tall as his partner. Where his friend was lean and lanky, this man had more muscle to him, still hidden under multiple layers of clothing. He had short dishwater blonde hair that stood up in the front, in a fashionably messy way. His face was sculpted, with a dimpled chin and a nose that had seen one too many fights. His lips were full and plump, and you caught yourself imagining what it would be like to take his bottom lip between your own. His eyes were amazing, a vibrant green that you thought you would only read about in stories. He was an immensely handsome man, and you were immediately drawn to him.

"Can we help you?" He questioned, his voice just as attractive as the rest of him. It was deep and smooth, like whiskey being poured over ice. It was a voice a girl dreamed about, one that could cause shivers of pleasure to run up and down your spine.

You knew you had been caught ogling the man, but you didn't really care. Instead you glanced down at the bloody body, disappointed that you never had the chance to revenge your parents murder.

"Were you able to catch the demons name before you exorcised him?" You asked, wanting to make sure the son of a bitch was really dead.

The tall one raised an eyebrow before answering. "Yeah, he said his name was Agerus. Why?"

So it was true, he was really dead. You felt relief that no one else could get hurt by this monster, but you were also frustrated that you weren't the one to end him, to get closure for your parents.

"I've been tracking him for the last three months. He killed my family." You stated, your eyes still trained on the body in front of you, so you missed the silent look between the two men.

"Hey, we're sorry. If we had known, we would have waited. We know what it's like, wanting and needing closure." The green eyed one apologized.

"No biggy. Just glad the monster is dead." You said, toeing the body to double check, not noticing that single tear that slid down your cheek.

Turning to leave, you were stopped by a large rough hand on your shoulder. It was the giant, and he had a soft, gentle look on his face.

"I'm Sam, that's my brother Dean. Why don't we get some food, it's the least we could do." Sam told you, and you accepted. You hadn't looked back since.

You realized you had just wasted ten minutes reminiscing about old times, and you chided yourself. Every minute that Abbadon was free and alive, was another dead body on your hands. Sighing deeply, you opened the ancient book just as Sam walked in from the kitchen, two plates in his hands.

Placing one in front of you, he sat down across the table before picking up the sandwich and digging in. You followed suit, enjoying the simple meal and the quiet, easy friendship the two of you shared.

Ever since that fateful day, you and Sam had become inseparable, the best of friends. It was because of that friendship that your relationship with Dean had taken so long to happen.

Dean had thought that you and Sam were an item, and you had ended up taking a chance and showing Dean how much he really meant to you. That had been a year ago, and the two of you had been an item ever since.

"Earth to Y/N." Sam teased, and you gave him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, my heads in the clouds today I guess." You explained.

Sam shrugged it off before moving his plate to the side and reaching for his laptop. "Don't worry about it. You've been doing research night and day, you're welcome to a day dream every now and then."

Grateful that Sam understood perfectly, you went back to reading the ancient script, trying to find anything on how to kill a knight of hell, or at least lock her up like Lucifer.

Hours passed, and the two of you remained silent, each caught up in your own research. A slamming door broke the silence, and you both glanced up, watching as Dean made his way down the stairs.

Jumping out of your chair, you ran over, pouncing into his arms. He wrapped his arms tight around you, his head nestled in your hair.

"God I've missed you baby girl." He muttered, and you could tell he was exhausted. Removing yourself from his arms, you pulled him down the stairs and pushed him into one of the chairs, before pouring him a finger of scotch. He downed it in one shot before leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes.

You took the chance to look him over, checking for injuries. His shirt was stained and bloody, his knuckles raw and bloody. He had the start of a black eye, and a split lip.

"What the hell happened Dean?" Sam asked, beating you to the punch.

"Long story." Dean mumbled, keeping his eyes closed.

"Well why don't you tell us about it, then I'll go get that pie I baked you." You tempted him, knowing he couldn't resist your pie.

He opened his eyes, eyes that were dark and somber, and told you a story you had a hard time believing, but the look in Dean's eyes proved it to be true.