Your jaw ached, so sore you could barely even swallow. Your left eye was swollen over, so tender it hurt to blink. Your shirt was shredded, your skin just as bad below. The cotton was sticky with blood, catching against the torn skin with each movement.

But you were alive, and that's what mattered right now. You were hidden, away from the vicious claws and teeth of the pack of werewolves. Holed up in some root cellar, cold and shaking with pain. You had time to regroup and figure out your next plan of action.

Gritting your teeth against the pain, you were able to pull your cell phone from your pocket. Each tap of your finger was excruciating, making you realize you could add at least one broken knuckle to the list.

Dean answered on the third ring. "Hey Y/N, where are you? Sam and I were starting to get worried."

"I was worried also," Cas spoke in the background, and even with the trouble you were in, you couldn't help but smile. The smile made you cry out in pain, alerting Dean instantly to your situation.

"Looks like the worrying was right," he muttered. "What's going on sweetheart?"

You were trying to be so tough, but the nickname had a tear slipping down your cheek. "I screwed up big time," you whispered. You could hear howling in the distance, the werewolves searching for your scent. It wouldn't be long until they found it and your hiding place would be exposed. And your battered state wouldn't put up much of a fight. "I didn't mean to go after them alone. They just found me."

"The werewolves did," Dean mumbled, and you could hear the roar of the Impala in the background. He was already on his way, coming to the rescue.

"They brought me out here, tried to kill me. I got away," you groaned when you moved, trying to ease some of the pain. "But Dean, they're on my scent. It's not going to be long now."

"Hey Y/N, it's Sam," Sam took the phone from his brother. "We've tracked your location. Hang tight, we'll be there in ten."

"Sam, I don't know if I have ten," you admitted, glancing down at the blood that was staining your clothes. If the werewolves didn't find you, the wounds they had inflicted were taking their toll.

"Damn it," he whispered before a muffled conversation happened on the other end of the line. "Dean's gunning it. We'll be there...,"

Your phone beeped before Sam's voice faded away. Your phone had died, leaving you completely out of touch. Throwing it against the wall, you shivered, the blood loss starting to affect you. The wind swirled around the small root cellar, another glimmer of hope in this dismal situation you found yourself in.

Through the wind you could hear the howling of the werewolves, drawing close. Their large paws crunched the leaves, their claws ripped at the bark. Staying as quiet as possible, you slid deeper into the cellar, hidden underneath the rotting wooden shelf hoping that Dean would find you before the wolves.

Dean. He was the one bright spot in your life. You just hoped that you would be able to see him once more. Even if the wolves dared take you from this life, you had known the love of Dean Winchester. A man that so many people feared, but you were one of the few who saw the kind and loving man he could be.

Lightning light the small root cellar, the thunder that quickly followed shaking the rotting wood so hard you feared it would come crashing down on your head. Rain started to fall, pounding on the roof above you, already starting to seep under the heavy wooden door. The rain was a welcome relief with the chance it could hide your scent and wash away your footprints.

The werewolves howls were even louder, filled with frustration before one yipped. You could hear gunfire echoing through the rain. Another werewolf yipped before it crashed against the door of the cellar, shattering it with its weight.

Staying huddled beneath the shelf, you watched as it stumbled to its feet, shaking off the force of the bullet. Neither Sam or Dean was in your view, leaving you alone with the infuriated beast. Calming your breath, you grasped your knife tight in your hand, hoping he wouldn't notice you. "I can smell you," he growled, sniffing the air, but as he turned you could see why the bullet had affected him so. It had cut across his face, blinding him, turning the skin around his eyes into a blistered and bleeding mess. He tripped over the shattered wood, bracing himself against the side of the cellar, breathing heavily.

Rain continued to pour outside. Gunfire and growls could be heard outside, but that was the least of your concern. "Where are you?" He taunted, slowly moving forward, swinging his arms back and forth. You were only steps in front of him. The only way out was behind him, leaving you trapped.

He slashed his thick claws in front of him, catching one of the jars of rotting fruit, knocking it to the ground where it shattered. While he was distracted by the disgusting fruit, you hastily crawled past him, wincing as the movement was almost too much for your battered body. Breathing heavily, you had just made it to the door when his meaty hand wrapped around your ankle, his claws digging in. "There you are!"

He pulled you back and you screamed, kicking at him, but your movements were no more annoying than a fly buzzing your head. Reaching out, you grasped the side of the cellar, splinters digging into your skin as he tugged hard when a gunshot sounded loud in the rain.

The hand holding your ankle went limp and you pulled away, looking up to see the werewolf slump into the shelves, shattering the remaining jars. You couldn't pull your gaze away as he fell to the ground, the glass jars shattering around him.

Suddenly arms were around you, pulling you from the sodden ground and you screamed, swinging your arms, your blade laying forgotten in the mud. "Y/N, it's me!" Dean exclaimed, and you stopped swinging.

"Dean, you made it," you whispered, cuddling into his embrace, relief taking some of the pain away. Dean held you tight in his arms, stepping out of the cellar and into the rain that still fell lightly to the ground.

"Of course," he answered. "Couldn't leave my girl hanging."

You could hear the worry in his voice, but he was trying to keep it light-hearted. Sam and Cas stepped into the clearing, both dirty but otherwise unharmed. Dean carefully lowered you to the ground, his eyes taking in your tattered skin and clothes, all of the blood you had lost. "I should have been with you," he muttered as Cas came to kneel beside you. "You should have never had to go through that."

"Dean, it's not your...," you started to say, but Cas had just placed his hand over your chest. Warmth filled you and you closed your eyes, wincing as your body knit itself back together. It wasn't painful, but it wasn't pleasant either, and you reached out blindly for Dean's hand.

Within seconds Cas was done, your body full healed. Dean helped you to your feet, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. "Dean, you're not going to get rid of me that easy," you assured him as Cas and Sam started to clean up the mess.

"Damn straight," he agreed, refusing to let you go. "But there is one thing," he said, his words suddenly serious as he pulled out a silver knife. "You were with the werewolves for quite some time. And you were pretty beat up. I just want to make sure...,"

"You're testing me?" You asked incredulously. "Cas just healed me. Pretty sure that wouldn't have happened if I had been turned into a wolf."

"I just want to be sure," he insisted, holding the knife out. Frowning, you held your arm out, watching as he made a slight cut across your skin. When nothing happened he breathed a sigh of relief but you just slapped him on the shoulder, turning away from him, your sweet reunion turned sour.

Sam gave you an apologetic smile as you stomped away. Cas seemed confused, but that wasn't anything new. Dean followed behind you, acting like a kicked puppy, and you knew it wouldn't be long before you forgave him. But you just wanted him to suffer. At least for a couple of minutes. After all, you couldn't stay mad at him for long.

Soon you were in the middle of the forest, Dean still walking behind you, Sam and Cas still back in the clearing taking care of the werewolves. Suddenly you were turned around, pushed up against the trunk of a tree.

Dean crowded in front of you, his body tight against yours. "Y/N I know you're mad. But I wanted to make sure you were...well...you. Before we burned the bodies and took away the only way of saving you. I didn't mean to make you mad."

"Dean, I understand. I do. I was just so excited to see you. You were the knight in shining armor even though I don't believe in that crap. But then, you pulled the knife, and I don't know. It just...

Dean's lips silenced your words, telling you what words never could. That you were his, and he was yours. And something like testing with silver. Or whatever else would never come between you too.