Dean x Reader

Synopsis: Challenge on Tumblr to rewrite an episode. I picked 4x01, Lazarus Rising. 

It's been four months since Dean has been gone, and you still can't sleep an entire night without the visions of him being ripped to shreds had you sitting up in your bed, sweat beading on your forehead. You couldn't close your eyes without hearing the horrific screams as the hellhound dug into his skin, while you stood by, unable to help him as his life slowly faded away.

Sam had faded away from your life, immersing himself in hunting, leaving you floating, never really knowing what to do. Alcohol became your best friend, and you often had a bottle beside your bed, not that you slept much to begin with. Life had no meaning for you anymore, and neither did hunting. Nothing mattered except for the fact that Dean was gone, and you were all alone once again.

As you lay there, on another dreary afternoon, a bottle hung limply from your hand. A couple more littered the floor of your hotel room, and the TV had turned to some annoying soap opera. But you didn't care. Your gaze was on the nightstand, and the picture of Dean you had carefully placed there. It was the only thing you owned that you cared about, and you kept it close to your heart.

"Miss, you need to pack up and leave!" The housekeeper yelled, pounding on your door. "Your room's been up a day already! Either pay, or we'll call the cops!"

"Go away!" You yelled, chucking the bottle at the door. It hit with a dull thud, not even giving you the satisfaction of shattering. The chain rattled as she tried to open the door, but soon she gave up, leaving you alone in your misery.

Sighing, you stood up, stumbling towards the bathroom. Running into the table, you glanced down at the gun sitting there, teasing you. Picking it up, you made your way into the bathroom, staring at the person you no longer recognized. Your once shiny and long hair hung in tangles down your back. You couldn't even remember the last time you took a shower or brushed it. Your face was dull and greasy, with dark circles under your eyes. Your clothes hung on you, your once curvy body now lean, almost too skinny from lack of nutrition.

Glancing down at the gun in your hand, you knew you could do it. You could end this façade of a life, and end up with Dean down in hell. It had to be easier than this life you were living now. Anything would be better than this pain you felt deep in your soul.

Trembling, you lifted your hand, holding the gun up to your temple. Telling yourself it was the best way. Nobody cared about you now. Not Bobby, definitely not Sam. He hadn't contacted you since the horrible incident, and you wondered if he was even alive. With tears streaming down your face, you released the safety on the gun, your finger slowly moving to the trigger.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, when your phone rang. A sound you hadn't heard in weeks, if not over a month. Wavering between ignoring it, you finally sat the gun on the counter, stumbling your way back into the room. Reaching for it, you almost fell over onto the bed as you glanced down at the number. "Bobby?" You answered, your voice hoarse from little use.

"Y/N girl is that you? Sounds like I got ahold of a cross dresser." Bobby grumbled on the other end of the line, always sounding as if he was in a bad mood.

Clearing your throat, you tried again. "Yeah, it's me. Sorry. What's up?"

"Sorry I haven't called earlier, but life's been tough. But have you gotten a weird phone call lately?" He asked you.

"No, this is the first phone call I've gotten in a while. Now if you're done, you interrupted something important." You muttered, not sure you'd be able to be brave enough to pull the trigger now.

"I'm sorry Y/N. I haven't been around for you, and I promised Dean. Come up to the house, please." He pleaded with you, and you wanted to. You wanted to see Bobby, and get the comfort you had been so desperately missing.

"I don't want to be a bother..." You mumbled.

"Nonsense. Head on up here." He insisted, hanging up.

You could hear sirens in the distance as you hung up, and you quickly began packing what little belongings you had left, making sure to grab the picture from the nightstand. Peering out the front window, you frowned when you saw the cops walking around the parking lot, talking to the owner of the motel.

Throwing your bag over your shoulder, you raced to the bathroom, tucking your gun into your pants as you threw open the window. Sliding down, you landed in the gravel with a thud, before quietly racing around the corner, waiting for the cops to go into the lobby before you made your way to your car.

The call from Bobby had cleared the lingering effects of the alcohol, and with a clear head you gunned your car towards Bobby's. All thoughts of ending your pathetic life pushed to the back of your mind.

_______________________________________

"Damn girl it's good to see you." Bobby grumbled as he swept me into a hug. It was the first real human contact you could remember since you had hugged Dean before he was turned into hellhound food. Just the feel of Bobby's strong arm's around you, his beard tickling your cheek had tears welling up, your breath catching on a sob.

Holding you at arm's length, Bobby frowned. "I take that back. You look like shit. What have you been up to?"

"Trying to survive." You muttered, glancing down, hoping he didn't notice how the fight to live had left you, your soul just a shell of who you had been.

"I'm sorry Y/N. We've all been trying to survive this best we know how, and I never reached out." He apologized, handing you a beer. "But before we go into that, I think you need to sit down for what I'm about to tell you."

Sitting down at his old worn Formica table, you held the bottle in your hand, trying to hide the fact that your hands were shaking hard. The drive up here, and the interaction with Bobby were already too much for you. A part of you wanted to run to the nearest hotel, and fall back to your old routine. Maybe even finish what you had started before Bobby had called you.

Bobby stood at his counter, frowning at the state you were in. The man had the ability to easily read you, as well as Dean and Sam, and you knew he could see how lost you were. "I've received a call. Two to be truthful. Both from a voice I never thought I'd hear again. Have you?"

"Dean?" You breathed out, and Bobby nodded briskly. "No, nothing."

"It has to be a prank. Or a shifter." Bobby thought out loud, rubbing his hand across his beard. "I don't know if we should go out and try to find the culprit, or forget about..."

Before he could finish his sentence, a loud knock sounded on the door, and a voice you had thought you would never hear again sounded loud. "Bobby, damn it! Let me in."

With your eyes wide, you glanced to Bobby. "Get the holy water." He ordered you, taking a silver knife and placing it in his pocket. Steeling his shoulders, he went to the front door, leaving you standing there in the kitchen doorway, waiting to see what walked through that door. Wondering if it was your mind playing tricks on you. Dean had been gone for four months, there was no way he could be back.

You could hear Bobby greeting the person, and before you could blink, the two were standing in front of you, Dean holding a hand over a cut on his arm. Without even thinking, you tossed the holy water in his face, not sure if you were more relieved or shocked when nothing happened. "Dean, it's really you?" You asked quietly, staring at the man who hadn't changed in four months.

"It's me sweetheart." He answered, his eyes hungrily traveling up your body, frowning when he noticed the way your clothes hung loose on your frame, the dark circles underneath your eyes. Unable to process what was in front of you, you could feel your body shutting down, your eyes closing as your knees buckled. Waiting for the impact of the floor, you felt nothing as everything slowly blacked out.

"Come on sweetheart. You can't sleep forever." Dean whispered softly next to your ear, and you stretched. Opening your eyes, you smiled up at the mossy green ones staring down at you, before you remembered everything that had happened.

"Dean, you were dead!" You exclaimed, glancing around to realize he had carried you up to Bobby's guest room.

"I was. In hell. But I woke up in this coffin, in the middle of nowhere." He answered, frowning. "I have no idea how I'm back, but I'm glad I am. I've missed you so much."

"How did you come back?" You asked him, letting him slide into bed with you, cuddling up against him. The second time you were close to someone in months, and it felt good. It felt like it was slowly healing your heart, and you took a deep breath, basking in the smell that was distinctly Dean.

"I have no freaking clue. But enough about you. What have you been up to while I was gone? Because Y/N, you have me worried. You don't seem the same."

"It's been tough." Was all you said, not wanting to go into any other details. Dean was just back, he didn't need to hear all your problems. "But what is your plan now?"

"To find Sammy. See if he was the one who brought me back." Dean answered, exactly like you knew he would. You didn't blame him. For the longest time, it was those two against the world, until you came along. You always had a slight feeling that Dean would pick Sam over you, and you understood that. Even if it hurt, you understood.

Sliding out of bed, you stretched. "Let's get going then!"

Once you had hopped in the shower, you went down to where Dean and Bobby stood talking quietly in the study. As soon as they noticed you, they stopped and Dean came forward. "We found him. I tracked his phone, and he's about an hour away from where I was buried."

The three of you had to climb into Bobby's beat up Chevelle, you in the back, while Dean had to settle for the passenger seat. Staying quiet, you listened to the two men catch up, even though you often caught Dean glancing back at you.

Now that you had finally gotten over the fact that Dean was really back, you should be jumping for joy, excited to have your boyfriend back. But you could only wonder how much he had changed, and you knew you had changed. You wondered if the love the two of you shared before he died would be enough to overcome the obstacles you knew were coming.

As soon as Bobby pulled up to the hotel, Dean was out of the car, heading into the hotel without even a backwards glance at you or Bobby. Sighing, you wondered if you should just stay here, let the brothers have their reunion without you. Sam hadn't exactly wanted to be around you after Dean had died. "Y/N, I know things have been tough, but with Dean back, things should be looking up." Bobby tried to make you feel better.

"Maybe I shouldn't have come back." You whispered sadly. "I've changed, and I don't want to mess things up with Dean."

"Nonsense." Bobby grumbled. "Dean's going to need you more now than ever. Now let's get in there."

Following Bobby, you were there just in time to watch Sam hug Dean tightly, as a skimpily dressed woman stood off to the side. Sam glanced towards Bobby, who nodded with a smile on his lip. Sam's gaze flittered over you, a moment of guilt in his hazel eyes before he turned his attention back to his brother. "You're going to need this back." He told his brother, handing over Dean's amulet. It made you realize you had never seen him take it, but you hadn't seen him bury Dean.

"Y/N, good to see you again." He announced, pulling you in for a quick hug.

"You mean, you haven't seen each other since..." Dean asked, amazed. Nodding, you saw the guilt clouding Sam's face. "What the hell happened when I was away? I almost didn't recognize Y/N, and you didn't follow through with your promise? You promised to keep her safe!"

You hadn't known about that promise, and your eyes widened in surprise. "Dean, I..." You argued, but Dean wasn't having any of it.

"Instead of doing as I asked, I find you here, with some woman in her underwear, while Y/N has been struggling on her own. She might not say anything, but I could smell the alcohol on her breath, and I can see the signs of giving up."

"Dean, I'm sorry. You were gone and I..." Sam tried apologizing.

"Whatever. I'm going to get a hotel room, clear my head." Dean grumbled, and you could see the mixed emotions on his face. Stepping over to him, you wrapped your hand around his arm. "Dean, it's not a big deal. Sam has his own life. Just be happy the two of you are back together."

Pulling you tight to him, Dean pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I know. I'm forever grateful for this new opportunity, and I won't stay mad at him for long, I promise. But Y/N, it kills me knowing how much you suffered while I was gone. I can see the signs, and I know life hasn't been easy for you. And I will work my hardest to make sure you don't hurt like that again."

Squeezing him tight, you stepped back. "I love you Dean. But I don't want you mad at your brother."

"I won't." He assured you. "But for now, let's get a room, and see if we can figure out what brought me up. Sam said he didn't."

A couple of hours later, you were returning with food when you heard a loud sound coming from your room. Sam had gone off, promising to be back later. Never really saying where he went. Bobby was at the library, looking for anything to help. Racing into the room, you saw Dean on the floor, glass surrounding him, his ears bleeding as he covered them. Helping him to his feet, the two of you stood up, just as the high-pitched sound stopped. "What the hell was that?" You asked him, as he wiped off the glass.

"I think whatever raised me is trying to communicate." He answered, as you dabbed at the blood trailing down his ear lobe. "I have a plan."

Calling Bobby, the two of you headed out to the Impala, and you ran your head lovingly along her gleaming black exterior. "Sam took good care of her." You spoke, mainly to yourself.

"At least he took care of one thing." Dean grumbled, reaching in and pulling out an iPod deck. "Douched it up a little, but otherwise she's okay."

Settling into the seat beside him, you smiled as the familiar classic rock sounds filled the cab of the car. "Y/N, you'll talk to me, if you need to. Right?" He asked you.

"Dean, it's nothing." You insisted, but he shook his head.

"I might have been gone for a couple of months, but I can still read you. You're not singing along like you used to. Your smiles don't reach your eyes. Please."

Sighing, you shook your head, tears filling your eyes. "It was just rough. But you're back, and that's all that matters."

Reaching over, he grasped your hand. "Together, we'll figure this out." He promised.

Bobby was already waiting at the metal shed when you pulled up. He had been busy, marking as many symbols and signs on the walls as he could, trying to make the place safe. Dean carried in as many weapons as he could, laying them all on the table beside him. "Y/N, why don't you wait at the car?" He suggested, but you shook your head.

"No, I want to be here. I want to see what brought you back to me." You insisted.

Dean began the spell, as you and Bobby stood behind him, waiting to see what was going to happen. At first, you thought the spell was a dud, but then the wind started picking up, and the lights started flashing. "Bobby, no matter what happens, make sure Y/N gets out of here safely." Dean insisted, as he reached down and grabbed his knife.

The two metal doors blew open, and in walked and unassuming man, wearing a plain tan trench coat, a suit underneath. Nothing even close to what you had expected. The man came right up to Dean, and Dean slammed his knife into the man's chest.

When he just stared down at the knife, before pulling it from his chest, you knew you were in trouble. Bobby came striding forward, but the man had to simply touch Bobby, and he fell into a heap on the floor. Keeping you behind him, Dean stared down the man in front of him. "Who are you? Why did you bring me back?"

"I am Castiel, Angel of the Lord." He answered, his voice gravelly and deep.

"Get out. There's no such thing." Dean scoffed, and you had to agree with him. In all your hunting, you had never heard of Angels.

"That's your problem Dean. You have no faith." This Castiel answered, and as lightning flashed, huge black shadowy wings showed up behind him.

"That was you trying to talk to Dean, wasn't it?" You asked, earning a glare from Dean.

"Yes Y/N. I thought Dean might be able to hear, and see my true visage. I was mistaken."

You couldn't believe it. A true Angel was standing in front of you. You had always wanted to believe in them, but as years went on, you had started to lose hope. Especially when Dean went to Hell, and you lost all sense of direction.

"This isn't really, you?" Dean asked Castiel, and he shook his head no.

"This is a Vessel. A person who has faith, and has given over to a higher power."

"Why would an Angel raise me from Hell?" Dean asked, always the sceptic, but you didn't blame him.

"Good things do happen." He answered, "And the lord has things planned for you."

Both you and Dean stared at each other in shock, but before you could ask any more questions, Castiel came to stand in front of you. "Y/N, I know who you are as well. And I could sense your hurting. I know you've been struggling, that you have almost given up on life. But know this. You are an important part in this as well. You are needed, and things will get better."

You could feel Dean's gaze hot on you as the Angel strangely comforted you, and you knew Dean heard that you had contemplated suicide. But you already felt different, and with Dean back, you didn't feel as lost anymore. It would take time to get past those feelings, but Castiel had been right. Things were already starting to get better.