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A cup of hot chocolate was slowly cooling next to you, a plate full of crumbs beside it. Your legs were tucked underneath you, a blanket covering your lap as you turned the page of the book you were currently reading.
It had been a relaxing day, spent by yourself in the bunker as Sam and Dean had taken off, planning on doing a simple hunt by themselves. You didn't mind, after all you had just spent over a month on the road with them. Back to back hunts had kept you busy, and when it was finally time to return to the bunker you had been relieved.
However, only a day later you had gotten the news of a hunt near by, and the brothers refused to let it go. They had compromised, it was an easy hunt so you could stay behind and relax, while they took care of it.
Here it was, a day later, and not one single word from either one of them. You had expected them back by now but when was a hunt every easy? You weren't too concerned, you knew the boys could take care of themselves, but you were already missing them, especially Dean. The older brother held a soft spot in your heart, but you would never tell him that. You didn't want to bare your heart to him, and have him laugh it off, so your feelings stayed buried inside.
You turned back from your thoughts to your book, a book you've had for over a month now, but never had read more than a page or two. Just as you settled back into it, your phone started buzzing next to you, and without even glancing, you picked it up and answered it.
"Y/N? We're on our way back. Probably about an hour out. Do you think you could the first aid kit ready?" Sam asked, his voice full of tension.
"Yeah, anything else you need? What happened?" You questioned, your book forgotten as you flung the blanket from your lap, already moving to where the first aid was stashed.
"The hunt turned out to be multiple werewolves, not just one. How about some whiskey." Sam explained.
"Is it you or Dean? How bad is it?" You asked, your heart in your throat as you waited in suspense.
"It's not life threatening, but if he doesn't get worked on soon it might be. Gotta go, be there soon." Sam said, and you could hear Dean groaning in the background before he ended the call.
Your heart pounding, you rushed around the bunker, grabbing things you might need, bringing them into Dean's room. You knew it might have been easier to care for him in the library, on one of the tables, but his comfort mattered to you.
Within moments, you had everything you thought you would need. The first aid kit with the bandages and stitches kit out and ready. Alcohol to calm him, along with disinfecting the wound, was placed on the nightstand, along with scissors to cut the cloth away. You had towels, and an old blanket was already covering the bed.
With time to spare, you went into your room, pulling your hair up into a careless bun, switching into an old t-shirt, and a pair of faded, jeans. Something you wouldn't care about, if you got blood on them. Knowing they would be arriving soon, you waited in the garage, ready to help carry him in, your hands shaking a little at the sight that probably awaited you.
It wasn't even five minutes later when you heard the roar of the Impala echoing in the tunnel. Sam guided the car into a parking spot before jumping out and opening the back door. Glancing in, the first thing you noticed was the whiteness of Dean's face, before you took in his once gray shirt, now almost black with blood.
You stood back, and watched as Sam gently lifted his big brother out the car, Dean's head lolling with the movement. "He passed out about five minutes ago." Sam explained as he hurried down the hallway, you almost having to run to keep up with his long strides.
Sam had to angle himself to fit the two of them through Dean's doorway, but he was soon setting him down on the bed, and then it was your turn.
Before you took stock of Dean, you glanced at Sam. "Go take care of yourself, you look exhausted. I'll call you when I need your help." You told him, and he followed your directions without complaint.
It was then you took a big breath and glanced down at Dean. "Oh Dean." You sighed, as you saw the big gash on his side, along with the bloody pant leg and the blood still seeping from a gash on his forehead.
Taking the scissors, you got to work, cutting away the bloody cloth, giving yourself as much working room as possible. Thankful that Dean was still unconscious, it made your job that much easier. Your next task was cleaning all the wounds, and you gingerly used a wet washcloth, wincing as the water quickly turned a deep red. It was when you decided to start the stitches that he came to.
"Shh Dean, it's alright. Just stay still." You told him in a calm voice, running your hand across his forehead, trying to calm him down.
"Y/N?" He croaked, his hand gripping your wrist. It was then Sam came back in the room, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, his hair still wet.
"Yep, it's me. You just lay back and relax. Let me take care of you." You told him, while gently pulling your hand from his grasp.
He laid back down, and you began the hard task of stitching him up. You started with his leg, and as the needle pierced the skin, you could feel his entire body tense. "Hold still." You murmured, as you worked, and he obeyed, but glancing up you could see his hands fisted in the blanket.
"Dean, did you know how bored I was while you guys were gone?" You said, trying to keep his mind off of the needle going in and out of his skin. "I thought it would be nice, to be alone, without your crazy rock music, and not having to listen to the arguments the two of you always get it."
"Hey!" He argued, but your job was done. He was more invested in your conversation, his body relaxing slightly. "You sing along to those songs. You love them. And you argue more than Sam and I combined."
You were done with his leg, the six inch slice closed up. You taped a bandage to it, before you moved onto the one on his stomach. It was the worst, and you knew it would hurt bad. You glanced at Sam, who read your unspoken message, placing a firm hand on his brothers shoulder.
"I don't mind some of them. But it was too quiet here. I cleaned, and I baked, and I read, but I missed it." You said, before you pressed the needle into his skin again.
You felt rather than heard his sharp intake of breath at the pain, but then he was back to your conversation. "You baked?" He asked, of course catching that fact.
You were about halfway through already, and he had stayed pretty still the entire time. "Yep. A pie. If your good, you might even get a piece." You bribed, but you didn't need to. His threshold for pain was high, and he was handling this better than you thought he would.
"Deal. Now tell me more. What else did you miss?" He asked, his voice going a little deeper, but you thought it was just from the pain.
"I missed the nights spent in crappy bars, laughing at all the drunk idiots, or hustling pool. I missed the crappy hotel rooms, and even having to share a bed with one of you two snoring buffoons." You teased, even though it held the slightest hint of truth. You had really enjoyed it every time it was your turn to share with Dean. Every night, halfway through, he would turn to you, still asleep, wrapping you in his arms, and you would lay your head on his chest. It would always last until dawn broke through, then he would silently turn on his side, not wanting Sam to notice.
"Really? Those are what you missed?" He teased, as you finished up the cut on his belly. There was only one cut left, the one above his eye. It was small, and would only need two or three stitches, and then you would be done.
"Why don't I go get him some juice, help with his blood loss." Sam said, climbing off the bed and heading for the door. You watched as he left, before sliding up the bed, sitting as close as possible to Dean. Leaning down, you bit your lip, getting ready to start on the cut, but Dean stopped you. "It was weird not having you with us." He admitted.
You smiled, not saying a word, as you leaned down farther, before stitching the last one shut. It was quick, and you were done before you even noticed, but still, you stayed, your eyes locked on Dean's. "I missed stealing glances of you in the backseat of the Impala, watching as you laughed at my jokes, or argued with me and Sam. I missed the way your eyes would light up when we would pass some silly historical marker, or the way you would groan when we had to dress up as FBI." He told you, as he stared up at you, his green eyes mesmerizing you.
"Really?" You asked, not quite believing him.
"Yes really." He answered. "But do you know what I missed most of all?"
You shook your head, waiting for him to answer.
Brushing a loose lock of hair away, he finished. "I missed the nights you were mine. Where I could take you in my arms and hold you the way I want to every night. The way you fit perfectly against me."
"Really?" You said again, words failing you.
Sam broke the spell, coming in loudly, not realizing the two of you had been close to declaring your feelings for each other. "Here is the juice. How is he?"
You straightened up, using the task of cleaning up as an avoidance. Because one look at your face and Sam would have known he had broken something up, and you weren't exactly ready for that yet.
"I'm fine. Ready to sleep it off." Dean grumbled, his voice oddly husky.
Sam took him at his answer, and turned to leave the room. "Yell if you need anything."
As soon as he left, you bundled the items in your arms, ready to escape and contemplate what had actually just happened. But as soon as you turned to the door, Dean's voice stopped you.
"Stay. Please." He asked quietly, his words betraying the fact that he was nervous and something you had never considered Dean to be. Vulnerable.
Dropping the items in your hands onto the dresser, you kicked your shoes off, tugging your jeans down your hips, before sliding into bed, being careful not to jostle Dean too much. Turning the nightstand light off, you laid on your back, awkwardly not sure what the next move should be. It was then a gentle hand slowly rolled you over, until your cheek was pressed against a warm, and naked chest. He wrapped his arm around you, and you couldn't help but sigh.
"Thank you." He whispered.
"Dean." You started. "What is this? Is it just a really close friendship or?" You couldn't finish.
He was silent for a moment, and you started worrying. "I'm not sure what this is. But I am sure I care about you, deeply. And I want to be more than friends, and hunting partners. If that's okay." He added quickly at the end.
"I've wanted that for a while too." You admitted, and you felt his arm tighten even more around you. It was then you felt him yawn, and you knew he had to be exhausted. "Sleep. We can figure things out tomorrow."
You felt the slightest whisper of his lips against the top of your head, before he leaned back, and the two of you slowly fell asleep together, a smile gracing each of your faces.