Never Alone: A Dean Winchester x Reader Collection

1: Never Alone

Or, in which Dean is an absolute dork. Grieving!Reader x Dean Winchester. For voidsav , with much love.

•••

The sunlight slanted between the drawn blinds, catching an inordinate amount of dust in their path. With the air so thick with it, it was a wonder you hadn't choked on it. It shouldn't surprise you, really, considering the price of this motel room.

You and the Winchesters were hunting a spirit, and Sam had already gone to the library to look over some of the local obituaries, leaving Dean to interview the witnesses.

You would have gone with him if it hadn't been a funeral visitation.

"Hey, it's about lunchtime. You want anything while I'm out?" he asked, pulling his suit jacket on. His eyes met yours in the mirror.

You hesitated, then shook your head. "No thanks."

He paused in straightening his tie, concern pooling in his green eyes. "You sure?"

You shrugged halfheartedly. "I'm okay," you said, answering his unvoiced question. You focused your gaze on the TV and continued flipping channels, hoping he would just leave, yet dreading being alone again.

He didn't look convinced, but he nodded reluctantly. "Alright. Well, I'll be back in a little while. Don't wait up."

You tried for a weak smile, but it fell as soon as he shut the door. It made you feel useless, to be stuck at the motel, just because you couldn't get past the thought of death. You were a hunter. Death was supposed to be something you were used to.

You had worried about your dad for ages, ever since the first mention of that dreaded word. Cancer. You had visited him in the hospital, stayed with him through good nights and bad nights. You were there as often as you could be, even when it meant skipping hunts to be with him. There were those who thought you were being irresponsible, or selfish, but to you, it was your dad. Nothing else could be more important.

And he got better. His smiles grew bigger and more real. He even left the hospital bed to join you in the hospital cafeteria, complaining about the ban on alcohol. You snuck him a beer, once. It had made your day to see his face light up.

And then one day things had changed. His face had gone pale again, his eyes dull and glassy. Before the week was over, he was gone.

You dashed tears from your face. No, things weren't okay. You weren't okay.

It had been months since the funeral, and you had been hunting nonstop since then, trying to make up for all those people you failed to save. This was the first time the Winchesters had seen you since the funeral, and they couldn't stop sending you soft looks full of pity and sympathy. It made your stomach clench every time you thought about it.

You gave up on the TV and turned it off. There wasn't anything worth watching. Instead, you leaned back and closed your eyes. If you went to sleep, would it matter if you ever woke up again? It wasn't like you were doing anyone much good in the first place.

You let sleep take you.

•••

"Hey, (Y/n). Up and at 'em." A voice cut through the darkness, accompanied by a rustling.

You blinked yourself awake, finding Dean at the foot of the bed, unpacking a cluster of grocery bags. You glanced at the clock.

"It's only been half an hour," you said blearily, sitting up. "How did you get the interviews done so fast?"

"I didn't," he said, keeping his gaze fixed on the bags in front of him. Only then did you register —

"Dean, why do you have all this stuff?" you asked, surveying his collection of chips, candy, a pie, a sack of fast food, and... "Is that a teddy bear?"

"It's for you." He held it out to you, and you see it's soft and fuzzy, with a (f/c) ribbon around its neck.

"Uh...why?" you asked, feeling awkward.

"It reminded me of you," he said. Then he flushed, and covered his embarrassment with a question, "You want curly fries or regular fries?"

"Do I — wait, Dean, what happened to the interviews?" you asked, your groggy brain finally beginning to catch up with the situation.

"Something more important came up," he responded, pulling a box from the drive-thru sack.

You furrowed your brow. "What, a chocolate binge?"

"Not just that," Dean replied. "You." He scratched the back of his neck at your confusion, and continued, "I shouldn't have left you all alone with nothing to do. It's not fair to you. Least I can do is to bring you food in compensation."

"Wait, all the snacks are for me?" you asked incredulously.

"Not all of them!" he protested jokingly, grabbing a bag of chips and pushing out his lower lip.

You gave him a playful slug in the arm. "Hey, no take backs!"

He smirked. "And what are you going to do about it?"

You lunged for the bag, only for him to pull it easily out of reach. Then you crossed your arms in a pout. "Using your height against me? That's a low blow." You looked thoughtful for a second. "Or is that a high blow?"

He snorted, kicking off his shoes and seating himself on the bed beside you. His warmth beside you is pleasant. "What do you wanna start with? Burgers, candy, chips, or this delicious, delectable perfection of apple pie?"

You grinned. "I think I better say pie, or you'll be very upset with me."

"Damn straight." He pulled it open, serving you and him a slice each, and producing a pair of plastic forks from somewhere.

You each dug in, Dean making the occasional appreciative noise, and you smiling a little each time. Eventually you licked your sticky fingers and set the plate aside as Dean started into his second piece.

You absently nibbled on a fry. "Hey, Dean?" you asked.

"Hm?" He looked at you, chewing an enormous mouthful that puffed out his cheeks like a chipmunk.

You giggled, and scooted closer. "Thanks. For everything."

He swallowed and grinned, putting an arm around you and capturing you in a side hug. "Anytime, (Y/n)." He hesitated, then dropped a kiss on the top of your head.

You looked up in surprise, and saw the soft look in his eyes. This wasn't sympathy at all. This was something softer, sweeter, stronger.

You smiled and snuggled closer, the bear in the crook of your elbow as you munched on another fry.