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“Dean.” You called in a whisper. “Can you promise me something?”
You were dying. Not from an injury, not because of a monster or attack, but from something you couldn’t fight. A tumour had gotten to before you could even come to know about it, and when you finally found out about it, your whole body was sick.
“Anything.” He touched your cheek.
You raised your head from where it was resting, his chest, and looked up to find his eyes staring back at you.
“Don’t do anything crazy to bring me back.” You said firmly. “No pacts, no angel possessing my body…”
“Sweetheart…” He sighed.
He didn’t like when you talked like that. Like you knew you were going to die soon. For months now you’ve been in treatment, and as much as he liked to believe it would be enough to save you, you’ve already accepted your fate.
“Just promise, Dean.” You said again.
He sighed for a moment.
“If you come to die.” He rolled his eyes like it was something impossible. “I promise I won’t so anything crazy to bring you back.”
You lied back on his chest and pulled the scarf covering your head. Your hair was long gone now, it had started to fall at your third session of chemotherapy, and you hated the fact that now you were completely bald. You had a wig you could use when leaving the bunker, but it just made things so obvious.
Dean always said he loved your naked head as much as he loved your hair, even though you knew you looked terrible.
“Hey.” He pulled you up so he could kiss you. “You are my girl.” He whispered against your lips. “I love you. I’ll always love you.”
You cupped his cheek, rubbing your cold fingers on his skin, and kissed him softly again. You wee together for almost ten years now. A lifetime.
“I love you.” You whispered. “I’ll always love you.”
The morning you were told your treatment didn’t work anymore, you cried for a whole day with Sam and Dean by your side, and the two of them quickly started looking for a supernatural salvation to you. Castiel was nowhere to be found for months somewhere, and here was no way he could save you.
“Here.” Dean helped you take your medicine. It wasn’t helping with your cancer, not anymore, it was only something to help you cope with the pain.
You had gotten worse and worse as the weeks passed, and knew you wouldn’t survive much more. One day, you just told them to stop trying.
“It is over, Dean.” You squeezed his hand. “There’s nothing we can do now.”
You had sex that night. Slow, gentle sex, and Dean assured you he loved you and made you orgasm so many times you lost count like it was the last time he would feel you or make you feel good, or even hear his voice.
“I love you.” You said, squeezing you in his arms, lying by your side. “I love you so much.”
He next morning, you could barely leave your bed. Your body ached and you were too tired. Dean had to feed you and help you walk to the bathroom when you needed. He stood by your side and hugged you, and never left you alone.
“I don’t deserve you.” You whispered. “You are so good to me.”
He smiled, caressing your face.
“Do you want anything?” He offered.
You shook your head.
“I’m okay. Can you lay down with me?”
He found his place by your side, holding you carefully.
“Dean.” You called.
“Yeah?”
“Will you cry when I die?”
He took a breath. He knew he should be waiting for you to go. It could be any moment by now.
“If you die,” He caressed your face. “I’ll cry.”
You breathed slowly.
“Don’t.” You looked up. “I’m happy.”
He frowned.
“You’re happy you’re dying?”
You chuckled.
“No.” You corrected him. “I’m happy I had a good life.”
He shook his head, caressing your cheek.
“I hunted monsters, I saved people.” You reminded him. “I did good.”
“You did.”
He spent the week waiting for you to go. You were weak, tired, needing him. He never left your side, he wanted his love to be the last thing you would ever feel, his face to be the last you would ever see.
But then, out of nowhere, you got better. You asked Dean out, went to your favourite restaurant, even walked in the park holding his hand.
“You think we can call your doctor?” He suggested. “Maybe we can change your treatment, you are stronger now. ”
You shrugged.
“I want to go home now.” You said to him, and Dean quickly brought you to the car.
In the bunker, he let you shower and you two laid down together.
“I love you.” You kissed his shoulder. “So much.”
“I love you too.”
“Can you get me a glass of water?”
He nodded, standing up and walking to the door.
“Hey.” You called, stopping him. “I love you. I love you more than anything in my life.”
Dean chuckled.
“I know, babe. I love you too.” He smiled. “I love you more than the infinite.”
You smiled and lied back on his pillow with a smile.
When he came back to the room, you were still in the same position he left you, with the same smile on your lips.
“Babe.” He called, leaving the glass aside and sitting by your side. “Y/N?”
His hand ran to your wrist, looking for a pose, and his eyes widened when he found nothing.
“Sam.” He shouted out. “Sam, help!”
He turned your body around, applying pressure on your chest several times, trying to bring you back.
“Come on, babe, come back. Come back to be, don’t go.” He insisted.
The taller Winchester entered the room, stopping when he realised what had happened.
“Dean.” He touched his arm. “Dean, stop.”
“Help me, Sam.” Dean insisted.
Sam pulled his brother away.
“She’s gone, Dean.”
Gone. You were gone.
You boyfriend shook his head.
“Y/N.” He looked at you. “But she was just fine, Sam. She… We were out today, we had fun. She was getting stronger.”
“I’m sorry.” Sam whispered. “I’m sorry, Dean.”
“She was fine.”