Chapter Text
Making mistakes is human nature, but I am probably the queen of mistake making. An opportunity comes my way, and I manage to make a mess of everything before I can blink. Well, in this case, leaving the opportunity alone would have been the best decision for everyone, not just me.
It was late. The bar was open. I was tired. Sam had already taken off as he and Dean weren’t on the best of terms. Those boys. They fight like an old married couple. So, with Sam back on the road by himself, Dean was left to his own devices till he decided to roll out.
I sat at the bar with a beer bottle between my fingers. Condensation rolled down the glass as I read the label on the bottle, truly wondering if it was even worth what I had paid for it. Mistake number one for the night.
Dean plopped beside me and ordered whatever I was drinking.
“You’ll regret it,” I tried advising. “It tastes like piss.”
The bartender brought over another bottle of the stuff, but Dean spoke up before the bottle had a chance to be opened. “On second thought, I’ll have a double. Scotch.”
“Drinking heavy tonight, aren’t we?” I questioned as I sipped once more from the horrible beer.
“Hey. Don’t judge my choices and I won’t judge yours.”
“Fair enough. So, tell me Dean. What’s up between you and the jolly green giant lately? Y’all are moodier than usual.”
Dean rolled his eyes as he downed the double scotch and immediately signaled for a refill. “Let’s just say we’re not on the same page about some stuff. What about you? Where’s your normal gang of happy hunters?”
I huffed a single laugh and tipped back the beer again. “Yeah. That went to pot a while back. Apparently stabbing first and asking questions later is not everyone’s philosophy.”
“Too bad.”
“It’s probably for the best, really. They were starting to get on my nerves anyway. It made me miss running the road with you two dingleberries.”
“What made you leave in the first place?” Dean stared straight ahead as he asked the question.
“Well, to sugarcoat it, I just felt like it was time for me to move on. You know me, Dean. I can’t stay in the same place for too long. I go stir crazy.”
“Yeah.” Dean cleared his throat and avoided looking me in the eye. “I wish you’d have stayed, y/n.”
I stared at the worn hunter then. He clenched his jaw and his shoulders hunched as he rested his arms on the bartop. Something made him tense, and I perceived a flicker of something in his eye that I couldn’t put my finger on.
“Why?” I asked.
Dean simply tipped back the drink in front of him and gestured for it to be filled again.
“Dean?” I pushed further as he still sat silent and unmoving. “Tell me.”
My heart began to pound in my chest, uncertainty taking over as I waited for an answer. Either he would say what I wanted to hear or something as generic as I was a good friend to him and Sam and good hunters are hard to come by. I silently pleaded that he would say what I wanted to hear from those pouty lips.
“Uh. Ya know. We miss you. You’re uh...a good friend.”
I internally sighed. Of course. Nothing but a good friend. “Right,” I said, shoving down the disappointment.
“And,” he continued.
I raised my eyes to look at him once more.
He quickly flicked his tongue over his lips and turned to look at me. “I really miss you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t seem to feel the need to divulge more information. He left it at that.
“Well. Alright then.”
“Look, what I’m trying to say is…” Dean hesitated, and he swallowed down emotions he either didn’t want to admit or he didn’t want to feel in the first place. “I need you.”
“Y-you what?” I felt the wind knocked out of me with three simple words. A stray butterfly fluttered through my stomach and I wanted to replay the moment, to see if I’d actually heard him correctly.
“You were one of the only things holding us together, y/n, and with you gone? It’s just not the same. With everything that’s going on with me and Sam - or what’s not going on - I need an ally. You always seemed to be the glue that held us all together. Could you come back with me? Come back to us?”
His words hit me square in the chest as they sank in, absorbed, became part of my being. It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but it was close enough that I was half a second away from dropping all my obligations to get in the Impala and run away with him.
“Dean, I-”
“I understand if you don’t want to. I don’t want to tie you down.”
I grabbed for one of his large, calloused hands and gripped it tight. He flicked his gaze between my fingers curled around his and my eyes, confusion mixed with hope.
“Dean…” But I couldn’t make myself finish the thought spinning around in my mind. I’ll come back with you. And I’ll never leave you again. Because I love you. And it’s why I left. I couldn’t bear the proximity - how many times I wanted to wrap myself around you and never let go. It was less painful to leave than it would have been to stay.
Dean’s gaze became intense, serious, and almost overwhelming. He brought a hand to my face and cupped my cheek. Before I knew what was happening, he was leaning in, his green eyes fluttering closed as he gingerly met my lips. Pure shock raced through me, so I didn’t even return the kiss. I just sat there in complete surprise, my eyes wide at what he was doing.
When he sat back, all I did was stare at him.
“Uh…” His hand left my face, and I almost whined from the loss of contact. “I’m uh...I’m sorry. I thought…” Dean sighed, defeat written on his face, and he gestured for another double to hit the bartop in front of him. “Never mind. Just forget that happened.”
“Dean.”
“I’m sorry, y/n. That was out of line.”
I placed a hand beneath his chin and turned his head to look at me again. “Dean.” A feeling of hope mixed with the small amount of depression I felt. Whatever that emotion is called, it shot through every cell of my body, and all I wanted in that moment was for him to kiss me again, and this time I would respond.
Dean’s eyes were still intense, and I hoped my expression let him know what I wanted. What I felt. That he had done the right thing - I was just monumentally surprised.
A question filled his face and he leaned in again, almost hesitant. I met him in the middle, and our lips once again pressed together. They were soft despite the slight chap across them. They whispered against mine, almost uncertain if this truly was the right thing to do. But when I increased pressure, increased responsiveness, I felt Dean let down his guard, and soon his hands found their way to the back of my head, to my waist.
“Dean,” I whispered as I broke away from him. “Maybe we should…”
Mistake number two for the night.
It had quickly become more heated than intended, and I didn’t want the barflies in the joint to stare in disgust as two strangers sucked face.
Dean cleared his throat before downing the double in front of him. He slammed money down on the counter and gripped my hand to drag me away with him.
How we got back to the hotel I’ll never know. But soon we hurriedly removed clothes, frantically searched for more and more contact, needed to be wrapped around each other. Somewhere between everything, Dean had said something to me I knew he regretted.
“Y/n,” he murmured as he came up for air from the breathless kisses. “Y/n, I love you.”
I stared, filled with shock again, as he waited for a response. With arms around his shoulders and bare bodies pressed together, I whispered a reply. “I love you too, Dean.”
Mistake number three for the night.
When passions quieted and the writhing only associated with sex had stopped, Dean allowed me to nuzzle into his side as he held me tight against him. I let the sound of his heartbeat be my lullaby, and I soon slept beside the man I should have never confessed my feelings for.
The next morning, he was gone.
Just. Gone.
He didn’t leave a note. He didn’t text me. He had vanished.
I went through the motions of the day, hurt and heartbroken. It felt as if Dean Winchester had used me like any other bar bimbo he’d pick up.
However, it seemed we made another mistake that night that neither of us considered at the time. It was one month later when I found out I was pregnant with his child, and when I called to let him know, he didn’t respond. He didn’t call me back. Not even a text message was sent. It seemed he didn’t care or wanted anything to do with me or the kid I was carrying.
I truly debated whether going through with the pregnancy was a good idea, but the thought of terminating a life when my line of work was to save people didn’t sit right. So I kept the baby.
Even when I had called Dean to let him know I was keeping it, he never called back.
Dean Winchester was avoiding me. And it hurt more than any injury I had received from the hands of monsters.