One Shot – Dean Winchester



The sound of water running woke you up. Living by yourself, you had reason to be concerned. You didn’t have a habit of sleepwalking and you had gone to bed hours ago. You leaned up slowly patting your nightstand for your phone while trying to stay as silent as possible.


Shit. Dead. You remembered plugging it in before you fell asleep but you’d been having problems with your charger and now that you need it most it decided to kick the bucket.

Hearing more movement downstairs, you were certain there was someone there. Slowly and quietly you got up, grabbing the baseball bat you kept under your bed. Living in an old house by yourself always made you paranoid, more so at night, so you’d gotten one just for the comfort of knowing you had some sort of protection. Never did it cross your mind that you’d actually need to use it.


You made your way into the hallway, peeking over the railing to see if you could make out anything but it was pitch black, just your luck. The only other phone was the land line in the kitchen and if you could get to that you’d be golden, but that didn’t stop your heart from beating a million miles a minute as you made your way down the stairs.


When you realized the running water was coming from the bathroom, you froze. You had to pass the bathroom door to get to the kitchen but the door was wide open. The sound getting clearer the closer you got. The warm glow of light confirmed that someone was actually there and your hands grasped the bat tighter. Your heart beating so loudly that you couldn’t hear anything else. You wanted to cry, scared out of your mind of all horrible things that could happen.


Your hands shook as you pulled yourself together. This was your house and there was no way an intruder would scare you out. You’d worked way to hard for your independence to just give it all up now.


You sucked in a deep breath and walked in ready to swing when you froze again. They had their back towards you but you knew the shirtless figure all too well.




Dean turned around, his lips curving into an amused smirk before he chuckled at you.


“I coulda killed you!”


“Went straight for the bat, I see.”


You lowered your arms, taking all of him in. He had been hurt and was cleaning himself up in the sink.


“Just like you taught me.” You reply before wrapping your arms around his neck to place a soft kiss on his lips.


He winced but nonetheless kissed you back, holding you tighter just a little while longer than usually. He inhaled deeply, taking in your scent before he pulled away. A patch on your shirt felt wet and you noticed it was soaked with blood. His blood.


“You should go shower. I’ll get my kit and stitch that up.”


“I’m alright. It’ll heal up.”


“Shower, Dean.” You pointed your finger sternly towards the bathroom door.


A low chuckle came from his throat as he watched you before he gave in. You turned the shower running trying not to watch as he unbuckled his jeans and pulled them off. God you loved that body. All of him, really, but you knew this could never be something real.


It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Dean to show up out of nowhere. He’d be gone for months, sometimes you’d even go a full year without seeing him, but he always came back. Most times needing medical attention. You knew what he did for a living. It wasn’t a normal nine to five by any means and his life was always in danger. Commitment with Dean was never going to be an option for you. He’d never allow you to get sucked up in his lifestyle. Said that he’d never forgive himself if anything was to happen to you.


You knew he loved you. Felt it with every touch and every kiss and boy did you love him too. In the countless years that he’d show up, he’d never stayed for more than a day or two but you’d gotten to know everything about him. All of his faults, all of his guilts. Your home was a safe place for him.


You’d had other relationships between those periods, but you’d drop any other man the second he’d come back to town. It was stupid, seeing as he was probably with other women too, but you held onto that notion that what you had was special.


Ruffling through your first aid kit, you got the supplies to properly stitch him and and got them ready. Dean walked into the living room, instinctively, due to how many times you’d had to do this, and sat back on the couch. His eyes followed you every move as you wet a cotton ball with alcohol to disinfect him and sucked in his teeth when the liquid touched his wound, stinging like a bitch, you’d assumed. But Dean was a big boy. He liked to act tough and you’d realized that it was more for his own sanity than to impress other people


“How’ve you been?” His rough voice let out as you carefully began the process, trying to make it as painless as possible.

“I’ve been alright, almost done with med school.” You answered.


A hint of pride gleamed behind his dark eyes as he looked down at you and you couldn’t stop the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.


“That’s really good. I remember when we met. You were drinking yourself to death, debating on quitting because you failed a final.”


You laughed at the memory, reliving it in your head. “Yeah – we’ve come a long way since then. How’s Sam?”


“He’s doing good. He’s good, just had some of his own business to take care of tonight.”


“What happened this time?”


“Just the wrong time to be out of matches.” He laughed, but it was a bitter one. No humor behind it.


Placing gauze over the stitches, you taped it onto his skin to get it from pulling on his clothes while it was still so fresh and he placed his hand over yours, holding it over the bandaging.


“I’ve missed you.”


It was always strange to hear such delicate words come from him. The man had many layers beneath his tough guy act but it always caught you off guard. When you looked at Dean, you wouldn’t think there was much under that rough exterior but to know he cared the way he did made months of waiting for him worth it.


“I’ve missed you too.” Your voice came out in a breathless whisper as you lifted yourself to sit on the living room table in front of him.


Despite his injuries, he placed his hands on your outer thighs, gripping them tightly to pull you onto his lap. “If I had a different life, I would’ve married you already.”


The words stung because you knew the truth behind it. There was no future here. Not with him. There would be no white dress in your future, no walk down the aisle and no kids. Not with Dean. Soon enough his visits would get far and few between until they stopped all together. It might be because he found someone new or because he’d lost his life but this was bound to come to an end someday.


“If you didn’t lead this life, we would’ve never met.” You smiled to mask the heart break. He saw through it immediately but this was a conversation you’d had way too many times to repeat now.


“I guess you’re right.”


“Are you hungry?” You ask, your fingers going over the fine stubble on his face.


“I just need some sleep.”


He lifted you to your feet veggie standing and you lead him upstairs to your bedroom. He had his own side in your bed. The spot closest to the door. You’d always been hesitant to wash your sheets after one of his visits because the sheer smell of his cologne would engulf you in your sleep.


He sat on the edge of the bed and you approached him, standing between his legs. His head leaned against your stomach as he wrapped his arms around your waist to hold you. Your fingers ran through his hair as you held him for a moment, feeling the tension of his chaotic life leaving his body.


You climbed into his lap again, your legs on either side and you kissed him. Hoping for a second that your distraction would ease his mind. Instantly, his hands cupped your face, pulling you closer to him as he deepened the kiss. The passion between you two was indescribable and you had no problem using it to give him some peace from the ongoing war in his head.




You were up before he was and gently took yourself out of bed so not to wake him. Wrapping a robe around your naked body, cleaned up on the bathroom before going  down to the kitchen to make him some breakfast.


Bacon was his all time favorite so that was a definite on the menu but while you went to pull it out of the freezer you heard him coming down.


He was fully dressed, jacket on, boots in hand as he took a seat on a chair to pull them on. He was leaving. Already. You smiled despite your disappointment when he walked up to place a kiss on your forehead.


“Something’s come up. I wish we had more time.”


“Yeah. Me too.”


You walk him to your door before embracing him tightly. Taking in the smell of leather and cologne that you loved so much. His arms held you in. His head laying over yours as you stood there trying to prolong the departure.


Finally you let go, trying your hardest not to let tears well up as you opened the front door. His lips met yours one final time before he crossed the threshold.


“Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you.” He said. “Remember that.”


You smile at him with a nod and he turns to leave, soon disappearing from sight.
Goodbyes never got easier with time. In fact they got harder. To think that this might be the last time you saw him. To not know what kind of reckless adventure he was headed to next. It took a toll on you to, but each time you closed the door behind him, you were counting the days until his return to do it all over again.

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