A Tortuous Love (Dean Winchester)

How it begins

*ring ring ring*

Damn that ringtone is annoying as hell, you thought to yourself. You made a mental note to change it later.

You pulled your cellphone out of the back pocket of your jeans and looked at the contact name on your screen. Bobby. You immediately answered and held the phone up to your ear.

"Y/N. I couldn't get ahold of your Dad. Is he around?"

"Yeah, we just finished a hunt in Wichita. He's resting right now. Why? What's up?"

"Well.." Bobby grumbled, and you heard papers rustling in the background.

"I've got a hunt nearby. And I need help, as much as I can get. It's a werewolf, a real nasty bastard."

You looked around the old hotel room you and your Dad were currently staying in. There was faded green wallpaper that surrounded all four walls of the room. The print looked something like from the 1960s, but you couldn't quite tell. The carpet looked like it has seen better days. It is grey now, but lord knows what color it was years before. The beds were cheap and creaky, just the way you are used to; the bedding is rough on your smooth skin (that is wherever you don't have scars or healing wounds, all of which, were inflicted by monsters). The whole room had the faint smell of must, covered up with the scents of cleaning products. To say the least, this room needed some updating.

Your eyes last landed on your Dad's bed. He was sleeping so soundly, you immediately felt guilty for answering the phone. This last hunt took a lot out of him, you don't know if he is ready to take on another so soon.

"Why'd you call us? I mean Bobby we haven't heard from you in a few years."

"Things have just been busy. Now are you guys coming or not?"

"Yeah, um, I will have him call you when he wakes up. It's his decision."

"Alright then, Y/N. See you then." you scoffed and rolled your eyes as Bobby hung up on you. Bobby was right, your Dad would never turn down a hunt, especially one this big.

You waited a few days to tell your Dad about the call Bobby gave you. You knew he'd be upset (which he was), but he definitely needed a few more days of rest before he could think about doing anything else. You've noticed that a lot lately, your Dad would take an unusually long time to recover from hunts. It's not that he is too old to be hunting, or too unhealthy, it's because he puts too much effort in, and doesn't let you do any of the dirty work.

You've done a few hunts on your own, you know how the usual gig works, given one day you won't have your Dad anymore; and when that happens your Dad made you promise him that you would try to live a normal life before hunting on your own.

You hate the thought of hunting without your Dad, he makes you feel safe. Your Dad is so cautious when he hunts, it's mind blowing. He notices certain things as they go past your eyes, unnoticed. You will always look up to him.

When your Father woke up from his little (not so little, more like two days) snooze, you told him about Bobby's new hunt.

"Alright." He cleared his throat.

"Let's get packed, and go." Your Dad went to get up from the bed and you pushed him down, easily.

"Dad, wait."

"What, sweet pea?"

"I don't think that going on this hunt is a good idea." You said unconfidently, looking down at the faded carpet.