911 Story Idea

Objection! Part 7

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

3.4k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

The air felt heavier, the silence more oppressive, as we kept moving through the tunnels. My flashlight flickered against the walls, catching glimpses of rusted pipes and slick concrete. We were both exhausted, but giving up wasn’t an option. Not now. Not when every step could bring us closer to the answers—or the way out.

Then we saw it: a door. Unlike everything else down here, it looked new, the metal gleaming faintly in the dim light. I stopped, my pulse quickening. “That doesn’t belong.”

Nick nodded, stepping forward to inspect it. “Looks like it was built recently. Think this is what we’ve been looking for?”

“Only one way to find out.” I grabbed the handle, hesitating for half a second before pulling it open.

The sight inside hit me like a punch to the gut. A teenage girl, barely older than fifteen, was strapped to some kind of metal frame. Her head lolled to the side, her breathing shallow but steady. She was alive, thank God, but her eyes were glazed over—drugged.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered, rushing forward. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. We’re here to help.”

Nick moved beside me, his flashlight sweeping the room. “She doesn’t look hurt. Just out of it.”

I checked her over quickly, relieved to find no visible injuries. The restraints were another story—heavy-duty cuffs locked tightly around her wrists and ankles, anchoring her to the frame. I tugged at one, testing its strength. “We’re going to need a key.”

Nick started searching, his flashlight darting over every inch of the room. “No sign of one,” he muttered, frustration creeping into his voice. “Nothing on the walls, nothing on the shelves.”

I scanned the space desperately, looking for anything that could help. That’s when Nick stopped, shining his light on a small, barely noticeable hole in the wall near the roof.

“What’s that?” he asked, looking up. “It doesn’t belong there.”

I stood beside him, squinting into the darkness. “Looks like… a hole. A really small one. Like someone drilled it.”

He glanced at me, then gestured to the hole. “Worth a shot. Take a look.”

Before I could protest he lifted me easily so I could peer into the hole. I angled my flashlight toward it, straining to see. And there it was. A tiny key, tucked just out of reach.

“I see it!” I exclaimed. “Give me a second.”

With some awkward maneuvering, I managed to fish it out using the thin edge of my flashlight. Once I had it in my hand, Nick set me down, and I rushed back to the girl. The key slid into the lock smoothly, and the restraints clicked open one by one.

“There,” I said softly, catching her before she slumped forward. “We’ve got you. You’re okay now.”

Nick helped me lower her gently to the floor. She was groggy but conscious, her eyes fluttering open. “We’re going to get you out of here,” Nick said firmly. “Can you walk?”

She nodded weakly, and together we got her to her feet. She leaned heavily on me as we guided her out of the room and back into the tunnel.

“Now what?” I asked Nick, my voice low. “We can’t go back the way we came, and so we take the other way?.”

“Then we keep moving,” he said, determination in his voice. “There’s got to be a way out. We’ll find it.”

I nodded, gripping the girl tightly as we started moving again, this time with more urgency. The clock was ticking, and whoever had set this up wouldn’t be happy to find we’d ruined their plans.

The tunnels felt tighter now, like the walls were pressing in with every step. Sections that should be open were now completely sealed off, the blockages smooth and deliberate. Whoever had orchestrated this had more time and resources than I wanted to imagine.

The girl—Sophie, as we’d learned—was starting to regain her strength, walking on her own now, though she still stayed close to me. The fear in her eyes hadn’t faded. Not that I blamed her. My own nerves were shot, and I wasn’t the one who’d been strapped to some twisted contraption.

Nick kept glancing around, his flashlight darting over every surface. “This guy didn’t just throw this together. He’s been planning this for a long time,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “And he’s got a serious grudge against Barba.”

The words were barely out of my mouth when the intercom crackled to life, the sound sharp and grating in the otherwise silent tunnel.

“Congratulations,” the voice drawled, its tone dripping with mockery. “You found one. Well done. Although, I must say, I’m disappointed—again. Where is Rafael Barba? Too busy hiding behind his desk to face the consequences of his failures?”

I tensed, my grip tightening on the flashlight. Sophie flinched at the sound, pressing closer to me.

The voice continued, growing colder. “Do you know what he did? How he abandoned her? She needed him, and he turned his back. My sister deserved better. She deserved justice.” There was a pause, heavy with emotion. “But don’t worry—I’ll make sure he pays. And if you don’t want to be trapped down here forever, I suggest you pick up the pace. Tick tock.”

The intercom cut out with a harsh click, leaving the tunnel in an eerie silence.

“Barba? This guy’s sister?” Nick said, frowning. “What the hell is this guy talking about?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my stomach twisting. “But we don’t have time to figure it out right now. We need to keep moving.”

Just ahead, another door came into view. This one was different—bars instead of solid metal, like a prison cell. My heart sank as we approached, and I saw what was inside. Two more teens, a boy and a girl, probably sixteen or seventeen. They were sitting on the ground, but when they saw us, the boy shot to his feet, gripping the bars.

“Help us!” he shouted, his voice hoarse but determined. “Please, get us out of here!”

“We’re going to,” I promised, stepping closer to the door. “Just hold on.”

Nick inspected the lock, a grim look on his face. “It’s not a key this time. It’s a combination lock.”

“Great,” I muttered under my breath. “Alright, start looking. There’s got to be something here that tells us the combination.”

We began searching the area, scouring the walls, floor, and any nearby objects for a clue. The boy paced behind the bars, his fists clenching and unclenching. “You have to hurry,” he said, his voice cracking. “He said he’d come back soon.”

“We’re hurrying,” Nick said firmly, his flashlight sweeping over a patch of graffiti. “Just stay calm.”

“Easier said than done,” I muttered, glancing at Sophie. She was standing guard, her arms wrapped around herself as she kept an eye on the tunnel behind us.

As I turned back to the bars, something caught my eye—a faint scrawl etched into the frame of the door. Numbers.

“Nick, over here!” I called, shining my light on the marks. “It’s a sequence. Could be the combination.”

He rushed over, inspecting the numbers. “Alright. Let’s hope this works.”

With a quick nod, I reached for the lock, my hands trembling slightly as I turned the dial. The click of the lock opening was the most satisfying sound I’d heard in hours.

The door swung open, and the teens stumbled out, the boy clutching the girl protectively. “Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with relief.

“No time for thanks,” Nick said. “We’re not out of this yet. Let’s move.”

I led the group back into the tunnel, my heart pounding. We had three of them now, but the clock was ticking, and every step brought us closer to whatever the psycho behind this had planned.

…

Rafaels P.O.V

Olivia’s radio crackled to life, the static cutting through the tense silence. My breath caught as Finn’s voice came through, hurried but steady.

“We’ve got an open door,” he said. “Amanda and I are heading in now. Looks like it leads into the tunnels.”

A surge of adrenaline coursed through me. Finally, progress.

Sonny cam through, his voice urgent. “I’m on my way. Where exactly is it?”

“East 37th, near the old maintenance lot,” Finn replied.

Olivia nodded sharply, already moving toward the car. “We’re heading there too,” she said into the radio. Then, in one fluid motion, she flipped channels. “All available units, converge on Detective Tutuola’s location. Repeat, East 37th, old maintenance lot. Possible access to the suspect’s tunnel system.”

The gravity in her voice struck me hard. It wasn’t just procedure—it was personal. For all of us.

“We’ll find them,” Olivia said, her tone resolute as she glanced at me.

I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. My thoughts were locked on Y/N and the hell she must be in right now. My mind raced with all the things I should’ve done differently. The choices I’d made that put her in this position.

Olivia touched my arm, grounding me for a moment. “She’s strong, Rafael. And she’s not alone. We’ll get them out.”

I nodded, swallowing hard, but the knot in my chest didn’t loosen.

As we sped toward Finn’s location, I forced myself to focus. Y/N was down there, likely facing God knows what. Regret wasn’t going to help her. Action would. And for once, I had to put aside the arguments, the courtroom maneuvers, and the carefully crafted words.

Because this time, words wouldn’t be enough.

…

Y/N’s P.O.V

The sound of our hurried footsteps echoed down the tunnel, sharp and unrelenting. My chest ached with every breath, but I didn’t slow down. Nick’s hand rested on his gun as he moved beside me, his eyes constantly scanning the dimly lit space ahead.

Behind us, the teens huddled close, their voices low but insistent.

“Who are you, really?” the boy, Ethan, asked, his tone edged with suspicion. “We know he’s a cop, but what about you? What’s your role in all of this?”

I glanced back, offering what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “I work with the DA’s office,” I said, keeping it simple. “We’re here to get you out and stop whoever’s behind this.”

“But why us?” the girl, Mia, pressed, her voice trembling. “Why is he doing this?”

“We’re still trying to figure that out,” I admitted, my voice steady despite the growing dread twisting in my gut. “But I promise, we’re not leaving without you.”

Before either of them could ask more, the intercom crackled to life again, the grating static sending a chill down my spine.

“Well, well,” the voice drawled, its tone a mixture of amusement and fury. “I have to admit, you’ve surprised me. Not only have you managed to find more of my little treasures, but it seems Barba and his merry band have decided to crash the party.”

My stomach dropped, and I exchanged a quick glance with Nick. His jaw tightened, his hand shifting on the grip of his gun.

“You’re ruining my plans,” the voice continued, its amusement fading into cold anger. “But no matter. I’ve played my part. I’ll see you all soon. Very soon.”

The intercom cut off with a sharp click, leaving us in heavy silence. For a moment, none of us moved.

Then Nick and I locked eyes, the same mixture of joy and dread mirrored in his expression. “They’re in,” I whispered, my voice breathless. “They’re coming for us.”

“But so is he,” Nick added grimly.

Without another word, we broke into a sprint, the teens scrambling to keep up behind us. My heart pounded, not just from the exertion but from the urgency driving me forward. If the team was in the tunnels, we had to find them—fast.

“Stay close!” I called back to the teens, glancing over my shoulder to make sure they were keeping up.

Every twist and turn of the tunnels blurred together, the oppressive darkness and endless sameness threatening to disorient me. But I didn’t stop, didn’t let myself think about how far we still had to go or what might be waiting around the next corner.

The only thought keeping me going was the hope that, somewhere in this maze, Rafael and the others were searching just as desperately for us. And that we’d find each other before it was too late.

…

Rafaels P.O.V

The damp, stale air of the tunnel pressed against me, thick and suffocating. Every step we took echoed against the concrete walls, amplifying the tension hanging in the air. But then we stopped short, met with a solid brick wall.

“What the hell is this?” I muttered, running my hand over the freshly laid mortar. It was still rough to the touch, and the smell of wet cement lingered.

Finn crouched down, inspecting the base. “This is new,” he said, his voice low but certain. “Whoever put this up didn’t do it long ago.”

Sonny spun around, spotting a couple of officers near the entrance. “You two!” he barked, his voice sharp enough to make them jump. “Get sledgehammers, now! I don’t care where you find them, just move!”

The officers bolted, and for a moment, the tunnel fell silent again except for the distant dripping of water. My frustration simmered dangerously close to the surface. Every second we stood here felt like a second wasted—a second Y/N and Amaro didn’t have.

“You think they’re past this wall?” I asked Finn, though my voice came out more desperate than I intended.

“They’ve gotta be,” he replied. “This guy’s trying to funnel them.”

Before I could respond, the officers returned, lugging two heavy sledgehammers. Sonny didn’t waste a moment, grabbing one and swinging it against the wall with a loud, echoing crack. Finn took the other, their combined efforts creating a rhythm of destruction that felt painfully slow.

Finally, with a groan of collapsing masonry, a section of the wall gave way. Dust billowed out, but I didn’t hesitate. I stepped through the opening, flashlight slicing through the darkness as the team followed close behind.

We hadn’t made it far when an intercom crackled to life. I froze, my breath catching in my throat.

“Well, well,” a voice sneered, its tone laced with mockery. “I have to admit, you’ve surprised me. Not only have you managed to find more of my little treasures, but it seems Barba and his merry band have decided to crash the party.”

I felt my chest tighten at the mention of my name. The venom in his voice was unmistakable, and the weight of his hatred settled heavily on my shoulders.

“You’re ruining my plans,” he continued, his amusement fading into something darker. “But no matter. I’ve played my part. I’ll see you all soon. Very soon.”

The intercom cut out abruptly, leaving us in a silence more oppressive than before.

“Was that…?” Olivia began, but I didn’t let her finish.

“It was him,” I said firmly, my voice cold. “Let’s move.”

I broke into a sprint, the others close behind. The adrenaline surged through me, pushing back the exhaustion creeping in from hours of searching. Every step was a mix of hope and dread, knowing that the voice wasn’t just taunting us—it was a warning.

Y/N was down here. Somewhere. And I wouldn’t stop until I found her.

…

Y/Ns P.O.V

We sprinted through the inky blackness, our footsteps echoing in the confined space. Each breath was a gasp, a desperate inhale against the burning in my lungs. But we couldn't stop. We were almost there.

Then, a new sound cut through the silence—heavy footsteps, deliberate and approaching. Nick's hand shot up, a silent command to halt. He raised his gun, his eyes scanning the darkness, a predator poised to strike.

Time stretched into an eternity. The footsteps grew louder, closer. And then, around the bend, they appeared: Olivia, Sonny, Rafael, Finn, and Amanda. Their faces, etched with relief, were a beacon in the darkness.

"Y/N!" Olivia's voice, raw with emotion, pierced the air. "Amaro!" Sonny's grin was wide, his relief palpable.

I stood frozen, disbelief washing over me. We had made it. We were free. But Olivia's voice, steady and grounded, pulled us back to reality. "We're not done yet. Let's get everyone out of here."

Nick nodded, his expression hardening, though the lingering relief was still visible. We pressed on, the tunnel seeming endless. Finally, we burst into the open air of New York City.

Nick's jubilation was infectious. He whirled me around, his laughter echoing in the night. "We did it, Y/N! We're out!"

I couldn't help but smile, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten. But the respite was brief. Olivia's voice, serious and focused, brought us back to the task at hand. "We found the other teens. They're all safe."

A wave of relief washed over me, but it was short-lived. The mystery of the man behind this twisted game remained unsolved.

We recounted our ordeal to the team: the cryptic messages, the personal vendetta against Rafael, the constant references to a sister. Rafael's face, once hopeful, now bore the weight of a painful memory.

"I know who it is," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "I know exactly who it is."

A heavy silence fell over the group. The man's identity, his motives, and his ultimate goal remained shrouded in darkness. The game was far from over.

…

Rafael P.O.V

I watched as Nick spun Y/N around, a wide grin plastered across her face. A pang of longing shot through me. I had wanted to be the one to celebrate with her, to hold her close and never let go. But I’d hesitated, a fear of rejection holding me back again.

The relief of finding Y/N alive and well was immense. She was more than just a teammate; she was a beacon of hope in the darkness. I’d yearned for her presence, her strength, her unwavering belief in me.

Now, as we stood outside the tunnel, the weight of the past settled on my shoulders. I turned to the team, my voice barely a whisper. “It’s Anya,” I confessed. “His sister.”

A hush fell over the group as they absorbed the revelation. Anya, a name whispered in the darkness, a haunting reminder of a life lost.

“She was one of the first victims passed across my desk” I continued, my voice trembling. “Smart, kind, and full of life. That was until this man she met on one of those random dating apps took advantage of her. She begged for months for me to put him away but there just wasn’t enough evidence and being as young and stupid as I was I didn’t want to prosecute a case I knew I couldn’t win. So I turned her away. A week later she jumped in front of a train in the subway. Her brother, Marco then came begging me to charge the man who attacked Anya with her death as well but again it was a case I knew I couldn’t win so I said no”

The memory of our last conversation, filled with accusations and heartbreak, still stung. I had failed her. The guilt had consumed me ever since.

“Rafael you can’t beat yourself up over it, you live and learn” Y/N gave me a small smile resting a hand on my arm.

“I could have stop all this before it got this far, he put you in danger, Nick in danger” I looked at her fighting back tears. Before the conversation could go any further a text message lit up my phone screen.

I know your weakness, Rafael.

I stared at the message, a shaky hand coming up to wipe the sweat from my forehead. When I finally looked up from reading and rereading the message my heart sank. Y/N was no longer standing next to me.

“Rafa what’s the matter?” Olivia spoke up seeing the look of panic on my face.

“Where is Y/N?” I asked turning to look behind me.

“She’s fine, she went with Sonny to get some water” Olivia pointed off towards Sonny’s squad car.

I took off in a sprint towards the car Olivia on my heels. Each step felt like a million miles. Sonny had been knocked out and left crumpled on the road. Olivia called for a paramedic while I stood shaking, spin around trying to look everyone were at once.

“No, no, no” I shouted, my phone lit up again catching my attention “Liv he has her”

Time for round two with the most precious prize.

Tag List!

@geeksareunique @pinkladydevotee @pumpkindwight

The time has come!

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love Part 18

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

1.5k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings none

Authors Note: 2 chapters to go!

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

The drive back to the bunker was long, the silence stretching between us. Sam kept his eyes on the road, gripping the wheel a little too tight. Y/N sat next to me, curled up against the door, her breathing slow and steady. Every so often, I’d glance at her, just to make sure she was okay.

When we finally pulled into the bunker, the familiar sight of home comforting.

Bobby and Theresa were waiting for us.

The moment Y/N stepped inside, Theresa was there, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Come on,” she murmured, leading her away toward our room.

I nodded at Bobby. He didn’t say anything, just gave me a long, unreadable look before turning his attention to Sam.

I shook off the weird tension and headed to the kitchen. The place was quiet, the kind of quiet that sinks into your bones. I pulled open the fridge and grabbed a beer, popping the cap off with practiced ease.

Behind me, I heard Sam walk in. I didn’t turn around. “Where’d Bobby go?” I asked, taking a sip.

Silence.

I frowned, glancing over my shoulder. Sam was sitting on the couch, his head tilted back, eyes closed.

“Really?” I huffed. “You could’ve at least answered before passing out.”

No response.

I rolled my eyes and leaned back against the counter, letting the beer sit heavy in my hand. The quiet stretched on, and for some reason, it started to get to me. The bunker always had this hum of life, a steady undercurrent of sound. But right now? It felt… empty.

I exhaled sharply and downed the rest of my beer. “Alright, I’m calling it,” I muttered. “I’m beat. Gonna get some sleep.”

I pushed off the counter and made my way down the hall. As I passed by, Theresa stepped out of her room, her eyes flicking up briefly.

I gave her a nod. “Night.”

She didn’t react. Didn’t even glance at me. Just turned and walked away.

I frowned. “Okay, cool. Good talk.”

Shaking my head, I pushed open the door to my room, to find Y/N already curled up in bed.

I hesitated for a second before stepping inside, closing the door behind me. The silence pressed in again, heavier this time.

…

The days after the hunt passed in a strange sort of haze. Y/N kept herself busy, floating through the bunker like a ghost, avoiding eye contact, avoiding conversation. Avoiding me. I didn’t push, didn’t ask. Something inside me told me I didn’t want to hear the answer.

Then Castiel showed up.

I felt the shift in the air before I even saw him. That familiar rustle of wings, the kind that always managed to set me on edge. I stepped out of my room just in time to see Y/N standing in the hall, arms crossed tight over her chest, staring him down.

"Go away," she said, her voice clipped.

Cas frowned, tilting his head. "Y/N—"

"I don't want to talk to you right now." She turned on her heel and walked away, disappearing into the library without a second glance.

Cas lingered for a moment, his expression unreadable. He turned his gaze toward me, but I didn’t move, just leaned against the doorframe and took a slow sip of my beer. He hesitated, then let out a quiet sigh, nodded once, and vanished.

…

It was Bobby who finally suggested we take a break from hunting. We were a week out from Centerville and everyone had thrown themselves into the work instead of taking the time to check in with each other.

"Theresa’s pregnant, and none of you idjits are exactly in top shape after what happened in Centerville," he said, leveling us all with one of those no-nonsense looks of his. "Take some time off. Regroup. Get your heads straight."

Sam nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. Y/N sat across from him, eyes downcast, picking at the sleeve of her hoodie.

No one argued.

…

The weeks that followed were quiet. Too quiet.

Y/N spent a lot of time in the library, flipping through lore books she wasn’t really reading. She stayed in bed later than usual, went to bed earlier. At first, it was easy to chalk up to exhaustion, but then little things started adding up.

She barely touched her coffee anymore. Certain foods made her turn pale. It was like she was punishing herself. Denying herself her normal pleasures as some sort of punishment for what I wasn’t sure. All my attempts to help her seemed to fall flat. It was as if she was pretending I didn’t exist. I understand why she was mad but to stay mad this long? I wasn’t a pro at long term relationships but this didn’t seem right.

…

Y/N’s P.O.V

I had to know for sure.

Leaving the bunker felt strange, like I was slipping away unnoticed even though no one had been paying much attention to me lately. Not that I wanted to be noticed. I got in the car and drove into town, my fingers tight on the wheel, my heart hammering against my ribs. The pharmacy was nearly empty when I walked in, my footsteps muted against the linoleum floors. I knew exactly what I was looking for, but I still hesitated before grabbing them—two, no, three boxes of pregnancy tests. Just in case.

The cashier didn’t say much, and I barely heard what little they did. I paid in cash, shoved the bag deep into my pocket, and walked out into the cool afternoon air. I needed somewhere private, somewhere no one would find me.

The park. It was quiet, tucked just off the main road. The public restroom was clean enough, and right now, that was all that mattered.

Locking myself in a stall, I took a deep breath and pulled the tests from the bag. My hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped one, but I forced myself to focus. One by one, I took them, lined them up along the edge of the sink, and waited.

Two minutes felt like an eternity.

Then, all at once, the results appeared.

Positive.

All of them.

My breath hitched. My chest tightened, and I pressed a hand to my mouth as hot tears welled in my eyes. I stumbled back against the wall, gripping my stomach with the other hand as if that could somehow steady me.

Pregnant.

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. Not now, not like this.

But it was.

And I had no idea what to do.

…

I didn’t tell anyone.

Instead, I hid it. I wore baggy clothes, trained less, avoided heavy lifting. I found a doctor, went to appointments alone, tucked every ultrasound photo away in a vent under the bed where no one would see. I made excuses when asked why I was hiding in the library so much and not training as much as I use to. I let Sam and Bobby believe I was still shaken from Centerville and needed to concentrate on the lore so I didn’t get caught out again. If they suspected anything, they didn’t say.

The bunker carried on as usual. Sam threw himself into research. Bobby checked in regularly. Theresa kept making lists of baby names and nursery ideas.

She had dozens of them, written in the neat, careful handwriting she always used when she was excited. She pored over books, websites, even old family records, scribbling down possibilities in a notebook she carried everywhere. Every few days, she’d cross out some and add more, her favorites changing constantly.

"What about something classic? Elizabeth, Katherine, maybe Charlotte?" she’d muse out loud. Then, the next day, she’d pivot. "Or maybe something unique! Juniper, Lark, Wren—something that stands out."

Sam indulged her, offering occasional input but mostly just smiling as she planned. She even started setting up a nursery in one of the spare rooms, painting the walls a soft green at first before deciding on a pale yellow instead. She rearranged the furniture over and over, never quite satisfied with where the crib should go. Every day, something was moved, adjusted, perfected.

And Dean—

I swallowed hard, pushing that thought away.

…

Theresa was the one who found out first.

It was late, and I’d just gotten out of the shower. Standing clad in tights and a bra I dug through my dresser for a clean shirt. The door swung open, and I barely had time to react before Theresa stepped inside, chattering about something—until she froze.

I turned, my heart hammering in my chest, my damp hair dripping down my back. Her gaze had zeroed in on the unmistakable curve of my belly.

"Oh my God," she whispered, eyes wide. "You're pregnant."

My breath caught. "Taz—"

"How long?" Her voice was softer now, laced with concern.

"Five months."

Her expression shifted, something between shock and heartbreak. "You’ve been hiding this for five months?"

I nodded, my throat tightening. "I… I didn’t know how to tell anyone."

For a long moment, she just stared at me. Then, finally, she let out a small, breathy laugh and stepped forward, pulling me into a hug.

"You idiot," she whispered. "You didn’t have to do this alone."

I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping her back just as tightly.

Maybe I didn’t have to do this alone anymore.

50 Ways To Say Goodbye

911 x fem!reader

5k word count

Summary The 911 helps you escape your abusive ex but in true 118 dumb, dumb stile they create a bigger problem that Athena has to fix.

fluff, idiots

Warnings mention and description of death, domestic abuse and self-harm.

Note: I've been working on the next part of The Dating Oddessey while listening to some music. 50 Ways To Say Goodbye by Train came on and gave me this idea. Didn't quite turn out how I wanted but its still pretty funny. Also you could take this to mean either Eddie or Buck has feelings for you. Not how I intended it but it's how it came out.

...

Today you had finally done it. You had finally worked up the courage to break up with your horrible excuse for a human ex Bradley. You made sure to break up with him while he was working so you had witnesses. The last thing you needed was him gaslighting you back into the relationship like last time. With witnesses, it was harder for him to say the breakup never happened. 

Today had been planned out for weeks. Your best friends, Eddie and Buck, had been helping you slowly remove your stuff from his house for the last month and taking it to your Dad's place. You did have much, after all, Bradley didn’t allow you to have much. He had to control everything from the furniture to the decorations and even the food kept in the house.

Outside Bradley's workplace Buck and Eddie were waiting for you in Eddie's truck. Your Dad, Bobby, was their boss and had given them the day off to play bodyguard for you. When you walked out the front door with Bradley storming after you both boys were fast to jump out of the truck and jog towards you. Eddie wasn’t going to let him hurt you anymore and Buck didn’t want what happened to his sister Maddie to happen to you for that reason Eddie had hidden a lot of what Bradley had done to you from all your friends and even your Dad. Eddies had been the house you would hide in for days at a time while waiting for bruises to heal. Eddie had been the person to give you that final push you needed to leave. 

“What if next time he kills you y/n? Did you think of that?” Eddie slammed his fist onto his kitchen counter as you held a bag of frozen peas to your soon-to-be black eye. “Do you have any idea what that would do to me? To Chris? Hell, think about your father and Athena. The rest of our friends. We all love you y/n and yet you keep allowing yourself to be treated like shit. You know what if you're going to go back to him this time then I don’t want you in my house, take your things and leave” Eddie had left the kitchen, leaving you standing there shocked to your core. It scared you. More than the beatings. You didn’t want to lose Eddie as your friend, you didn’t want to hurt him or Chris, your family, your friends. Eddie was right enough was enough. 

After that night you had come clean with everyone about what was happening. Athena was quick to offer up their spare room for you and Bobby wouldn’t take no for an answer. Eddie and Maddie had to keep Buck distracted at all times until your items were moved out of Bradley's house because he threatened to kill the guy if he laid eyes on him. So when Buck and Eddie saw him coming up fast behind you screaming at you Eddie made sure to direct Buck to get you out of the way. Buck was quick to slide an arm around your waist and guide you quickly to Eddie's truck. Eddie blocked Bradley from coming any closer to you. You couldn’t hear what was said between the two of them but whatever Eddie said had Bradley ducking back into his building quickly. Eddie waited until the building doors closed behind Bradley before walking back to the truck. He didn’t speak once he started the truck nor did he speak for the entire trip to your Dads. His white knuckles gripped the steering wheel the whole drive there. Their conversation was something that had pissed him off. Once at your Dad's, you excused yourself to go lay down. The day had left you physically and mentally exhausted. 

“It’s okay baby you go rest, your Dad wants to cook you something special for dinner so I’ll come get you when his home and cooking, okay” Athena gave you a loving smile. 

You made your way to the spare room and quickly made yourself comfortable on the bed. As you lay there you could hear Athena talking with Buck and Eddie. 

“She’ll be safe here, trust me if that guy comes anywhere near this house he can consider himself arrested” Athena said

“How long does it take for someone like him to just leave a person alone?” Buck asked 

“Some give up after a few days, some a few weeks, months, years, some never quit” Athena sighed “But this guy I’d say as soon as he has a new target he’ll leave her alone” 

“Athena…” Eddie was cut off by someone banging on the front door. Before anyone could move to open the door what could only be described as a stampede echoed through the house. Heavy boots took staircase steps 2 at a time until the fanfare came to an end in the kitchen where Athena, Eddie and Buck still stood in shock at the interruption.  Stood before them in full uniform fresh from a call were Bobby, Chimney, Hen and Ravi. 

“What in the world are you lot doing in my kitchen?” Athena asked frustration lacing her voice

“Did you get y/n?” Chimney ignored Athena looking straight at Eddie and Buck

“y/n is trying to rest which she won’t be able to do with you lot acting like a bunch of zoo animals” Athena crossed her arms over her chest looking at them all like a disappointed mother. 

“So what's the plan from here how do we keep her ex from intimidating her back into a relationship with him” Hen asked keeping her voice just above a whisper partly to keep from disturbing y/n but mostly to appease Athena. 

“Well, to start Maddie and I are going to take her out for the day tomorrow, take her mind off all this” Athena motioned around the room. 

“Then starting the day after I’ve adjusted our rosters so someone can be here with her around the clock in case he shows up here” Bobby spoke up

“Unfortunately, someone here invited him over for dinner so he knows exactly where we live” Athena threw an accusatory look at Bobby. 

“Maybe she should come to stay with me he has no idea where I live” Eddie offered up. 

“No she’s safer here with Athena” Bobby said “Any sign of trouble and Athena can have the entire LAPD on our doorstep” Bobby smiled at Athena. 

“A Mumma has to protect her babies” Athena smiled back at Bobby. “And besides, he knows all of us and he will likely stalk all of us to get to her”

“So what are we supposed to do just wait for him to lose interest” Buck spoke up frustrated with the situation “I mean you said it yourself Athena it could take years” 

“Or days or weeks or months, the only guaranteed way to get rid of him quick is if y/n died, it’s the only way I’ve seen his type leave their victim alone for good” Athena said. The 118 shared a look, a look of mischief, of a united thought on how to get rid of this threat to their family. Athena knew immediately what they were thinking and quickly began shaking her head and looking between them. 

“Don’t you even think about it” Athena pointed a stern finger at each person standing in her kitchen. “You’ll be causing more problems than what you’ll solve”

…

Despite Athena's warning the 118 decided as a family that if ‘the asshole’ as they affectionately dubbed him showed his face to any of them they would warn him to back off and if he wouldn’t listen they would tell him y/n was dead. It seemed like the perfect plan until it wasn’t. 

The first person to meet him face to face was Chimney. It was 4 days after Eddie and Buck had taken you to live with Bobby and Athena. It was Eddie's day off. He had taken you out for lunch, then you picked Christopher up from school before heading back to Eddies to hang out. Eddie asked if you wanted to stay for dinner and a movie. Christopher who overheard the offer from where he sat in the dining room doing his homework practically begged you to stay. You called Athena to let her know you were going to be out late with Eddie and that he was going to drive you back when the movie ended. Christopher was old enough after all to stay home alone for the 20 minutes it would take Eddie to drop you home. 

Because of this, it was Chimney who got stuck working late at the firehouse. He was the last to leave after finishing off all the small boring end-of-shift jobs like making sure all the dinner dishes were done and the ambulance restocked for the next shift. Bradley had been parked across the road from the station all day watching the team come and go. Your little stunt at his office had cost him his job. He was going to make you pay and he had all the time in the world to make it happen. He waited and counted off your friends as they left. He wanted to make sure that he followed the last person to leave because he knew if he risked following anyone else the rest of your friends would know and his plan would be ruined. He noticed after the first three calls of the shift that one of the guys he had seen you out the front of his office with wasn’t on shift today. He decided it was likely that guy's fault you left him. You’d probably been seeing him behind his back all along. He’d make him pay too. He counted them out one by one as they left the firehouse, first, it was the other guy he’d seen at his office and some Middle Eastern-looking dude. Then that black woman he’d seen you hang out with left. Next was your father. He almost forgot to wait to see him. He wanted to chase him down and run him over with his car but he held it together. He knew there was one more person left. The little Asian guy. When he hadn’t come out after 30 minutes he almost thought he went home earlier and he’d missed him. That was until Chimney walked out of the 118 firehouse almost 45 minutes after his shift had finished. He was talking away on his phone not paying attention to his surroundings creating the perfect situation for a stalker. 

He followed Chimney from the firehouse to one of those 24-hour corner stores. He followed him in close behind, waiting until Chimney was alone in the back of the store. As luck would also have it there were no security cameras in sight. While Chimney was distracted looking at the small selection of diapers the store carried, he took his chance. Before Chimney could respond, he had grabbed him by the shoulder and had him pinned against the diaper shelves he was just looking at. 

“Where is she?” He asked aggressively.

“Who?” Chimney asked shocked but trying to remain calm. He knew exactly who he wanted. 

“Y/n” He held back from yelling in Chimney's face. 

“Y/n? You…you mean you haven’t heard?” Chimney tried his best at putting on a distraught face even willing a few tears to fall. 

“Heard what?” He loosed his grip on Chimney. 

“I’m sorry man, she… she's dead” Chimney said softly trying to lace his voice with sadness. 

“What no! What happened?” He aggressively slammed Chimney back against the shelves. 

“The night Eddie and Buck picked her up from your place she slit her wrists in Bobby and Athena's bathroom” Chimney made himself sob. 

Bradley shook his head in disbelief and ran from the shop. Once out of sight, Chimney let a massive grin break out on his face and he let out a proud chuckle. He grabbed diapers and practically skipped to the counter with them. He was so proud of himself and his lie. He knew if Bradley went looking to see if it was true he would see there had been a call out to Bobby and Athenas that night. It hadn’t been for you thought. Buck being the massive cluts that he is had managed to get his foot stuck in the bin beside the toilet while changing out a light bulb in the sconce above the sink which had stopped working while he was using the toilet. While trying to get the bin off his foot he slipped on the bath mat and fell smacking the back of his head with a loud yet hollow-sounding thunk on the sink, Luckly for Buck he has a thick skull and came out of it with a sore bum, ankle and head and a bruised ego. They still had him taken to the hospital because even though the injuries weren’t that bad he still needed to be cleared of any major head injury before returning to work. 

…

2 days later by chance, he ran into Hen. It was her day off and she was about to come pick you up to go out to the movies but first, she had to run some errands. Bobby wanted to have a barbecue at his place to celebrate family and new beginnings. She was grabbing a few things to take with her when he spotted her. She was about to walk into the supermarket when he walked out. Seeing Hen he decided to take the chance to confirm what Chimney had told him. He grabbed Hen who was distracted by the shopping list on her phone and pulled her to the side of the door. 

“What do you think you're doing? Get your hands off me!” Hen snapped. 

“I’m sorry I just want to talk” He sighed. 

“What do you want?” Hen asked crossing her arms over her chest,

“Is it true?” He asked. 

“Is what true?” Hen asked. 

“Is she dead?” 

“I’m afraid so” Hen dropped her head.

“No, no it can’t be” He looked at the ground. 

“If it means anything she didn’t suffer” Hen put a hand on his shoulder. When he looked up at her confused Hen was quick to drop her hand back by her side. “There was nothing anybody could do for her. I can assure you she died the second the car made contact with the semi, she wasn’t even aware of the fire” 

“A car accident?” He stumbled backwards. He ran away from Hen and made his way into the parking lot. The groceries he had brought were abandoned on the ground. Hen passed a confused look to the parking lot, shrugged and continued with her day. She knew if he went looking he would find a two-vehicle collision between a truck and a car. Y/n was nowhere near the accident but the 118 had responded to the accident so if he looked it up he wouldn’t be able to accuse them of lying. 

…

The very next day Ravi saw Bradley hanging out across the street watching the fire house. Ravi would have run off and grabbed Bobby but he was at home spending time with you. Ravi took a quick look around but couldn’t spot any other members of the 118 to alert. Ravi decided that he was going to have to do something about it himself. He jogged across the road and stood beside Bradley's car. He positioned himself in such a way that if anything should happen anyone watching on in the firehouse would be able to see both Ravi and Bradley in the car. Ravi through a look back at the firehouse and then turned his attention back to Bradley. 

“Any reason you're watching the firehouse?” Ravi asked faking a smile trying to pretend that he didn’t know who the man in the car was. “Are you interested in working for the LAFD? I could get you some information if you want to come inside” Ravi motioned towards the firehouse with an outstretched hand. 

“Oh no, I was just hoping someone could help me get some information on a friend” Bradley put a fake smile on his face. 

“No problem sir if you want to come inside I can set you up in the captain's office and we can all have a couple of officers down to help you” Ravi never once let the smile on his face falter. 

“I don’t want to be a bother” If he stepped foot in the firehouse he knew he would be recognised by the other members of the 118. “My friends' name is Y/n Nash I believe you know her, she’s the fire captain's daughter” 

“Oh y/n, yeah I knew her, um the captain is actually off today, I guess you’re here for the funeral?” Ravi let his smile drop. He tucked his hands into his pockets, rocked back on his heels and looked at the ground. “I could get you the funeral details if you want” 

“No, no it’s fine, when did she die? How did she die? I mean last time I saw her she was healthy, she seemed happy” Bradley knew he was baiting Ravi. He’d already been told two different things. Either your whole team was messing with him or you were messing with them. Either way, he was going to figure it out and track you down. And when he found you he was going to make you pay. 

“Uh she…she was involved in a hit and run, Cap had to decide to turn off her life support. The doctors said she had almost no chance of recovery any way” Ravi looked up to the sky knowing if he looked Bradley in the eyes he might break and smile. 

“I’m so sorry to hear that, I was just in town and thought I would stop in for a minute but I wouldn’t want to be a burden, pass my condolences on to Bobby” Bradley gave Ravi a small smile and pulled away from the firehouse. When he was out of sight Ravi fist-bumped the air and jogged back into the firehouse. As far as Ravi was concerned that was the last time he thought any of you would hear from him. Bradley on the other hand had only gathered more evidence that the 118 was potentially lying to him. 

…

Early the next morning Bradley stalked Eddie to his usual running path. He waited until Eddie was on a particularly quiet portion of the track, hidden from the eyes of the public by bushes and trees. He blocked Eddie's path not allowing him to step around him. Eddie the second he laid eyes on Bradley wanted to punch his lights out but he held his composure. Eddie placed some distance between himself and Bradley before speaking up. 

“What the hell do you want?” Eddie said voice laced with anger. 

“I just want to know what happened to y/n” Bradley put his hands up in surrender. 

“You have no right to ask about her” Eddie snapped “She was so happy until you came along, you broke her down, you isolated her from us, you’re the reason…” Eddie choked on his words. A mixture of real and fake emotions was flowing through Eddie. He was so upset and caught off guard that he almost went off the script. “You’re the reason shes dead” 

“Now Edmundo I don’t believe that for a second” Bradley smirked at Eddie

“Look in my eyes and tell me I’m lying” Eddie growled, “I carried her lifeless body out of her parent's house after she blew her brains out with her mother's gun, I begged and pleaded with god and anyone who would listen to bring her back to me, to us.”

“No, no… you're lying!” Bradley yelled backing away from Eddie. 

“She killed herself because we wouldn’t let her go back to you, maybe we should have, maybe if we did she’d still be here” Eddie's gaze dropped to the ground. The next thing Eddie heard was the sound of someone running away from him. He looked up to see himself once again alone. A smile broke out on his face as he continued with his run. He couldn’t wait to finish up his run, get home, shower and get to work. The only thing that was going to top this was having dinner with you, Buck and Chris tonight. Bradley on the other hand was not so sure what was going on. He found himself confused. Everything Eddie said seemed so genuine. Maybe Bobby and Eddie had told the rest of the team different things to keep them from knowing what happened. He hadn’t seen you around since that day in the office not even with Eddie and Buck even though he knew you’d always run off to them in the past. Still, he had two more people to ask and he wasn’t going to stop until he got the truth. 

…

That afternoon he followed Bobby into a butcher as he looked for the perfect cuts of steak and his favourite burger patties for the weekend during some downtime between calls. He wanted this BBQ to be reminiscent of the BBQs that you had when you were a kid even though, Mum, Robbie and Brook weren’t here anymore and you’d felt like he had tried to replace them with Athena, May and Harry. You’d grown to love them like Bobby did and accepted them as your family. Bobbys plans came to a halt when Bradley grabbed him by the arm and spun him to look at him. Bobby went from shocked to furious in seconds. Bradley could tell immediately that Bobby was not impressed to see him. 

“I’m not trying to start anything” Bradley puts his hands up in defence “I just need to know…”

“Need to know what?” Bobby snaps crossing his arms across his chest making himself larger and more intimidating. 

“Is she dead?” He asked. 

“My daughter? My child who you destroyed so completely that she couldn’t see her self-worth. Yes, she’s dead and it's all your fault” Bobby was now shaking with anger, his arms hung limp at his side and his gaze had met the floor. “I had to scrape her brains off every surface of my guest room, all my children are now gone, I couldn’t save any of them, what kind of father can’t protect his children?” Bobby looked up to where Bradley had been standing to find that he at some point had run off. Bobby looked around the empty store and shrugged. Had he been a little overdramatic sure but he didn’t think he’d been that bad. With a smile plastered on his face, he went back to picking out the steaks for the weekend and hoped that would be the last time he would have to see Bradley. 

…

The next morning Buck found himself running late for his shift. Chris insisted on watching a movie with everyone the night before but fell asleep not 15 minutes into the film despite insisting to Eddie that he was not sleepy at all. Eddie carried Chris to bed and decided that since the movie had started you might as well watch it. It was one of your and Chris's favourites. Eddie was sick of watching the movie on repeat and Buck had somehow had the blessing of not being subject to FernGully until now. After the movie, Buck drove you home. This meant he didn’t get home until almost 11 pm and he had to be at the station at 7 am. Bradley had spotted Buck on his drive home and decided to camp out the front of Buck's apartment building for the night. When Buck stumbled out the front door in a rushed mess the next morning Bradley was there to greet him. 

“I’m not here to start a fight, I just need answers” He held his hands up in defence. 

“What the hell do you need answers for?” If looks could kill Bradley would be dead with how Buck looked at him.

“I just want to know if y/n is dead” Bradley moved further back from Buck out of fear of getting hit.

“Dead” Buck yelled and got so close to Bradley that their chests were almost touching “Why do think it’s any of your business to know what’s happening with y/n?” 

“I just heard rumours and wanted to know” Bradley flinched away from Buck. 

“You wanted to know? You wanted to know?” Buck looked away and scoffed “Yes she’s dead alright, she killed herself, you have no idea what it’s like to be called out to a scene where someone you love has killed themselves, to see their blood all over and know that nothing you can do will save them. To see them choking on their blood as it spills out of their open throat” 

Bradley had gone pale, so pale that Buck thought he was going to faint. For a split moment, Buck felt bad, made be he had been too harsh and taken things too far. Bradley quickly crossed back across the road to his car and took off before any more words could be exchanged. Buck shrugged and quickly made his way to work running even more late now. But that was normal for Buck so he knew no one would question him and he wouldn’t have to tell anyone about running into Bradley. 

…

Finally, Saturday rolled around 2 days later. You had been kept busy all morning by Athena who had you help put out her good wine glasses, set the table for lunch, and do other small tasks. Eddie, Christopher and Buck had shown up around 10 am because Chris was too impatient and excited to hang out with his favourite person. You were so distracted with Chris that before you knew it, the rest of the 118 had arrived. Bobby and Buck were manning the BBQ, Chris was off playing with Danny and Mara, Hen, Chimney, Ravi, Karen and Maddie were busy talking among themselves. Athena was busy drifting around the kitchen while Eddie stood outside next to you watching the kids play. 

“I’m glad you left him” Eddie broke the silence. 

“Me too” You smiled up at him “Thank you for knocking some sense into me”. 

“Okay everyone lunch is ready!” Bobby called bringing a tray of meat into the dining room. 

Everyone sat around the table. Athena had set the kids up at their table out in the yard which made them think they were the coolest kids ever. She even gave them their plastic wine glasses to drink juice from. You were in the middle of one of the greatest lunches you’d ever had when there was an overly aggressive knock on the door. Before Athena or Bobby could move to answer the door someone yelled through the front door.

“I know you're all in there, I want answers and I want them now!” Bradley screamed through the door. 

“What in the world?” Athena looked towards the landing where the front door was. 

“What’s he doing here?” Buck looked around the table. 

“I guess this means the plan didn’t work” Chimney looked between everyone. 

“What plan?” Athena looked at Chimney. 

“Uh, well, uh, Bobby do you want to explain it” Chimney looked to Bobby. 

“You brought it up” Bobby motioned back to Athena. 

“What plan?” Athena stood up, crossed her arms and started tapping her foot. 

The 118 shared panicked glances while you, Maddie and Karen looked around the table confused. 

“Robert Wade Nash you better start speaking or so help me god you’ll be sleeping at the firehouse tonight” Athena levelled her attention on Bobby. 

“We might have told him y/n was dead” Bobby said 

“Dead” Athena looked around the table “After I told you not to tell him that you went and did it anyway” 

“Well in all fairness Athena I was the one who told him she was dead” Buck admitted looking at his plate. 

“You? No, I told him” Chimney jumped in. 

“Wait but I told him she was dead like a week ago” Hen added. “Oh god what have we done” 

“One at a time, how did you all say she died” Athena asked the table. 

“Slit her wrists,” Chimney said

“Hit and Run,” Ravi said

“Car accident,” Hen said

 “Shot herself with your gun,” Bobby said

“Slit her throat,” Buck said

“Same as Bobby,” Eddie said

You, Maddie and Karen, were trying to hold it together despite all having a bad case of the giggles. Athena was done with the entire 118 at this point and it was clear from the look on Bobbys face he was already trying to decide who would let him crash on their lounge tonight. 

“If you weren’t going to listen couldn’t you all have at least agreed on how she died” Athena sighed. 

“I’ll go deal with” Bobby went to stand up. 

“No you’ve done enough damage” Athena left the table. 

Athena went to open the door while everyone else quietly got up from the table and came to peak around the corner. Bradley was still furiously banging on the door when Athena answered it. 

“What do you want?” Athena asked angrily.

“I need the truth, I’ve been told so many different things over the last week,” Bradley said “Tell me the truth and I’ll leave you alone” 

“Yes y/n is dead, yes she killed herself with my gun, no we haven’t told everyone, now if you don’t mind we’re currently having her wake” Athena crossed her arms. 

“I’m so sorry” Bradley quickly turned on his heels and ran off up the driveway out of sight. 

Athena took a deep breath and closed the door. 

“When I turn around you all best be at that table eating” 

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love Part 11

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

1.6k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings none

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

For 6 weeks we avoided each other. Only leaving our rooms to get something to eat or drink. Groceries where dropped off on a weekly basis, Dean was always waiting by the hatch when the drop off happened. I would sit by the top of the stair case to listen in to the brief conversation that took place, it was always the same. “Are you going to let us out yet?”

“Have you worked it out yet?”

“Fat chance of that happening”

“Then no”

For the next 2 weeks I tried to talk to Dean. Clearly waiting them out wasn’t going to work and honestly at this point I would rather be honest about how I felt and risk rejection then keep playing this game. At least this way I could tell Theresa I had tried. Surely they couldn’t keep me here if Dean was the one not playing by their rules.

My first attempted at talking to Dean was when our weekly delivery came. I waited for him to make his way down stairs then I followed behind him. Once the groceries had been delivered the hatch closed I tried to talk.

“Dean I don’t think waiting them out is working” I mentally slapped myself for pointing out the obvious.

“Clearly but we don’t have a better plan” Dean didn’t even look at me as he picked up all 8 bags of groceries in one go heading to the kitchen.

“We could talk it out like adults” I sighed.

“Hate to tell you sister but I have 10 years on you and a whole lot more life experience then you, you’re barely an adult” Dean still refused to look at me dumping all 8 bags on the counter top.

“9 years and I’ve been an adult at longer then you think”

“9 years” Dean rolled his eyes and walked off.

“Where are you going?” I called after him.

“To my room”

My second attempt, third and fourth attempts where all met with eye rolls as Dean walked away from me. It was becoming clear that the only way Dean was going to have a conversation with me is if he was trapped with no escape. Dean had made it a habit of going for a shower at the same time every night. He wouldn’t risk leaving the shower if he knew I was in the room. Or at least I hoped so. I had smuggled a butter knife back to my room one night after I had made myself dinner. I had then waited patiently for Dean to have his dinner and went to test the butter knife on the lock of the bathroom door. As I had hoped the butter knife was the perfect thickness to help me turn the lock on the door. I hid it in my room and waited for him to head to the shower. That night however Dean didn’t go for his shower as normal. He ate and went back to his room. I gave him an extra half an hour just in case he was busy with something for had forgotten. But when I heard the light switch in his room, I had guessed he had gone to bed. I wandered out into the hallway just to make sure he had gone to bed. The light that was normally visible under Deans door was off. Making plans to try again the next night I ducked back into my room long enough to grab my towel before heading to the bathroom myself. I dropped my towel on the bench before running a bath. I was exhausted from days of trying to talk to Dean. Not physically exhausted but emotionally exhausted. All I wanted was a nice long hot soak in the tub. Once the tub was full, I stripped down and submerged myself in the water. I took a face washer and submerged it in the hot water before laying it over my face. I took a deep breath, laid back and let myself relax.

“You’re looking pretty comfortable there” Deans sudden presence startled me.

“DEAN WHAT THE HELL!” I screamed grabbing the shower curtain dragging it in front of the bathtub to cover me.

“I’m sorry where you not trying to do this exact same thing to me?” Dean chuckled closing the toilet seat cover to take a seat on it.

“Well yes but only to get you to talk to me” I squealed.

“So talk”

“I…uh…I…”

“Oh so now you can’t talk” Dean chuckled again “Look it’s clear this avoiding each other plan isn’t working”

“And what do you suggest we do now?” I raised an eyebrow while looking at the shower curtain now hanging between us.

“I honestly don’t know” Dean let out an awkward chuckle “For once in my life I don’t actually have a plan”

“We could always try being honest”

The room fell silent. I watched the droplets of water slowly falling from the tap waiting, internally pleading for Dean to break the silence.

Dean shifted uncomfortably, his silhouette rubbing the back of his neck. His silhouette looking away, then back to me. I could almost see the gears turning in his head, the urge to argue or deflect swimming just beneath the surface. But instead, he surprised me.

"Being honest?" he echoed, as if testing out the words. "You really think that could work? I mean... after everything?"

I kept my gaze steady, resisting the urge to look away. "We’ve tried everything else, haven’t we? What do we have to lose?"

Dean let out a breath, his shoulders slumping as though the weight of everything we’d been carrying was pressing down harder than ever. The silence returned, but this time it felt heavier. I glanced at the tap again, watching the droplets hang in the air before they fell, one by one.

Finally, he stood up, pacing the small, dimly lit room. "You don’t just be honest” he muttered. "That’s not how it works."

"It might not," I admitted. "But pretending we’ve got it all under control isn’t working either. We’re running out of moves, Dean. This could be the only one left."

He stopped pacing, staring at me. The room was filled with a mixture of frustration and fear. “What if…What if we tell the truth and it just... makes everything worse?”

I swallowed hard. I hadn’t let myself fully think about that possibility. But now that it was out there, spoken aloud, it hung in the air between us like a dark cloud.

“Then we deal with it,” I said, my voice steady despite the doubt creeping into my chest. “At least we won’t be running anymore.” I whispered the last part.

Dean turned away from me, staring out the window again. His jaw tightened, the muscles in his back visibly tensing under his shirt.

"You’re really ready to do this?" he asked quietly.

I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I thought about everything we’d been through, all the lies, the half-truths, the fear that followed us wherever we went.

“Yes,” I said finally. “I’m ready.”

Dean nodded, his back still to me. “Alright,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Then we do it.”

He turned back to face me, his expression hardened with resolve. “But if this goes south…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to. We both knew what was at stake.

Dean stood there, his chest rising and falling with the weight of his breath. The tension between us thickened as the silence stretched on. I was about to say something—to break the spell that had settled between us—but before I could, Dean crossed the room in a single, swift movement.

Before I could respond he had moved the curtain out of the way. His hands gripped my arms, not harshly, but with a firmness that caught me off guard. “If this goes south…” he started again, but his words faltered. His gaze, intense and searching, locked onto mine, and in that split second, I could see the conflict, the hesitation, and the unspoken emotions simmering just beneath the surface.

Then, without another word, Dean pulled me into him, his lips crashing against mine. The world seemed to blur at the edges, all the tension and fear melting away in the heat of that moment. His kiss was desperate, almost like it was the last lifeline he had left. It was raw, full of all the things he couldn't say out loud—the fear, the uncertainty, and something deeper I hadn't expected.

For a second, I froze, my mind racing to catch up with what was happening. But then, instinct took over, and I found myself kissing him back, my hands tangling in his shirt, pulling him closer. The world outside didn’t matter anymore—the looming threats, the uncertainty of what lay ahead. All I could think about was the way his hands held me, like he needed this as much as I did.

When he finally pulled back, both of us were breathless, and I could see it in his eyes—he was as terrified as I was. Not just of what we were about to do, but of what this moment meant.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, his voice hoarse. He let go of me, stepping back slightly, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t,” I cut him off, shaking my head. “Don’t apologize.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but I could see the uncertainty in his expression, the conflict still brewing beneath the surface. This was new for both of us, and neither of us knew what to do with it.

For a long moment, he just stood there, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air. But despite everything—the danger we were facing, the uncertainty of the future—I couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, we were finally being honest.

Heyy are your requests open?

Yep! Always happy to take requests!

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love Part 14

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

2k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings child emotional abuse, panic attack mentioned and described. The mentioned situation is based on my own personal experience with an abusive father and the resulting trauma I have dealt with because of it. I apologise if I trigger anyone.

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

The road stretched out before us, the familiar rumble of the Impala’s engine filling the silence as Dean drove. The morning had started with an unsettling quietness. Dean had showered, dressed, packed his bag, and headed to the car without a word. It wasn’t like him to be so distant, and the tension in the air was palpable.

I sat in the passenger seat, stealing glances at him as the miles passed. His jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on the road, and his hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white.

In the backseat, Sam and Theresa exchanged worried looks. Sam had been uncharacteristically quiet too, his eyes occasionally darting to the rearview mirror to study his brother. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Dean,” Sam said gently, leaning forward slightly. “You’ve been quiet all morning. What’s going on?”

Dean’s grip on the wheel tightened, and his lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m fine, Sammy,” he said curtly, his voice flat and distant.

“You don’t seem fine,” Theresa chimed in, her tone cautious. “If something’s bothering you, we can talk about it.”

Dean didn’t respond, his focus remaining firmly on the road.

“Dean—” Sam started again, but Dean cut him off sharply.

“I said I’m fine,” he snapped, his voice carrying an edge that made everyone in the car go silent.

I glanced at him, my heart sinking at the sight of the storm brewing behind his eyes. Whatever was eating at him, it was bad. I reached out tentatively, placing my hand lightly on his arm, but he didn’t acknowledge the gesture.

The rest of the drive to the bunker was oppressively quiet, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Sam sat back in his seat, arms crossed, his concern evident even in his silence. Theresa stared out the window, her expression thoughtful but uneasy.

And Dean? He just kept driving, his knuckles white, his eyes hard, and his thoughts a million miles away.

The Impala pulled into the bunker’s garage with a low growl, and before the engine had even stopped completely, Dean was out of the car. The slam of the driver’s door echoed through the space as he stormed off, his boots thudding heavily against the concrete floor.

Sam sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He looked at me with a mix of sympathy and apology. “Give him some time,” he said quietly. “Whatever’s eating at him, he’ll talk when he’s ready.”

I nodded, though the knot in my stomach didn’t loosen. Dean’s silence on the drive had been bad enough, but the anger radiating off him now was something else entirely.

“Come on,” Sam said, gesturing for me to follow. “I’ll show you to his room so you can put your stuff away.”

Dean’s room was small but surprisingly neat—though still distinctly Dean. The faint scent of leather and whiskey lingered, and the shelves were lined with books and trinkets he’d picked up over the years. I placed my bag on the bed, my fingers lingering on the worn fabric of his blanket, and tried to shake off the unease.

“Theresa’s already explored every inch of this place” Sam said, pulling me from my thoughts. “She’ll want to show you around.”

He was right. Theresa was waiting just outside the room, a cheerful smile on her face despite the tension hanging over the group. “Ready for the grand tour?” she asked.

I followed her through the bunker, trying to focus on her enthusiastic explanations. She showed me the library, where rows of dusty bookshelves stretched toward the ceiling, and the garage, where the Impala now sat alongside other vehicles. She pointed out her and Sam’s room, the spare rooms, and the arsenal, where weapons of every kind were meticulously organized.

The lounge room had a couple of mismatched couches and a large table littered with papers and beer bottles, and the kitchen—well, that’s where I found him.

Dean was leaning against the counter, beer in hand, staring at nothing in particular. His shoulders were tense, and his jaw was set in a hard line.

Theresa paused, sensing the shift in the air. “I’ll, uh, leave you two alone,” she said softly, backing out of the room.

I hesitated for a moment before stepping forward. My heart ached at the sight of him like this, clearly battling something he wasn’t ready to share. Slowly, I wrapped my arms around his waist from behind, pressing my cheek against his back.

“Dean,” I said gently, my voice barely above a whisper. “What’s wrong?”

For a moment, he didn’t move. Then, without warning, he shoved my arms away and turned to face me, his eyes blazing.

“What’s wrong?” he repeated, his voice rising with every word. “What’s wrong is that every time I turn around, there’s someone breathing down my neck! Asking me if I’m okay, if I’m fine, if I’m gonna talk about my damn feelings!”

I stepped back, startled by the sudden outburst. “Dean, I just—”

“You just what?” he snapped, cutting me off. “You think wrapping your arms around me is gonna fix whatever this is? You think you can just ask me what’s wrong and magically make it better?”

His words hit me like a slap, and I felt my chest tighten. My voice cracked as I tried to reply. “I just wanted to help…”

Dean ran a hand through his hair, pacing in frustration. “Well, maybe I don’t want your help! Maybe I just need everyone to back the hell off!”

Tears pricked at my eyes, and I took another step back, my legs trembling. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to—”

But I couldn’t finish. My throat closed up, and the fear creeping into my chest overwhelmed me. I turned and ran, my footsteps echoing down the hallway as I fled the kitchen.

Behind me, I thought I heard Dean call my name, but I didn’t stop. Not until I was far enough away that the lump in my throat started to ease and I could breathe again.

…

Dean’s P.O.V

As soon as I heard her footsteps retreating, I knew I’d screwed up—big time.

“Y/N!” I called after her, but there was no response. Just the echo of her running down the hall, leaving me standing there like an idiot.

“Dammit!” I growled, slamming my fist into the counter. Pain shot through my hand instantly, sharp and biting, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the guilt eating me alive. Blood welled up from my knuckles, and I swore under my breath, heading for the sink.

I turned on the cold water and shoved my hand under it, wincing as the sting hit me. The red swirled down the drain, but it didn’t take away the mess I’d just made. My chest felt tight, and I couldn’t get the image of her face out of my head—the way she looked at me, scared out of her mind. I’d done that. I’d done that.

“You’re an idiot,” Theresa’s voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and unforgiving.

I didn’t even turn around right away. She was right. I was an idiot. “I know,” I muttered, keeping my eyes on the water.

“No, you don’t,” she snapped, and I could feel her glare boring into my back. “If you did, you wouldn’t have just blown up at her like that.”

I finally turned, but I couldn’t look her in the eye. “I didn’t mean to—”

“To what?” Theresa interrupted, her tone like a whip. “To scare her? To make her feel like she’s back in that house where every day was a screaming match?”

Her words hit me like a freight train. “What are you talking about?” I asked, though part of me wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

Theresa crossed her arms, staring me down like I was the biggest idiot on the planet. “Y/N grew up in a house where her parents screamed at each other all the time. And when her dad wasn’t yelling at her mom, he was yelling at her. Over nothing. Over stupid crap that wasn’t even her fault.”

I felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me. My mouth opened, but no words came out. Finally, I managed, “I didn’t know.”

“Of course, you didn’t,” Theresa said, her voice softer now but still firm. “She didn’t want you to know. She didn’t want anyone to know. But now, thanks to your little outburst, she’s probably somewhere having a full-blown panic attack, thinking she’s back in that hellhole.”

I closed my eyes, running my free hand over my face. “I didn’t mean to hurt her,” I said quietly, my voice cracking more than I wanted it to.

“Well, you did,” Theresa shot back. “And it’s gonna take time for her to trust you again. You can’t just fix this by saying you’re sorry and hoping it’ll all blow over.”

“What am I supposed to do, then?” I asked, my voice desperate.

Theresa sighed, her arms dropping to her sides. “You give her space, Dean. You let her breathe. And when she’s ready, you apologize the right way. No excuses, no ‘I didn’t mean to.’ Just own up to it.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. My hand throbbed under the water, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except fixing this.

Theresa started to walk away but stopped at the door. “Dean, she cares about you. A lot. But you’ve gotta be careful with her. She’s tougher than she looks, but she’s not invincible.”

And just like that, she was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the steady drip of blood swirling down the drain.

I stared at my busted hand, jaw tight as I made a silent promise: I’d fix this. No matter how long it took or what I had to do, I’d make it right.

…

Y/N's P.O.V

I didn’t stop running until my legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor in the library. My chest was tight, my breath coming in shallow gasps as sobs wracked my body. Desperate for some semblance of safety, I crawled under one of the large wooden tables and curled up, hugging my knees to my chest.

The tears wouldn’t stop, and neither would the echoes of Dean’s voice in my head—loud, sharp, and angry. Every word cut deeper than the last, dredging up memories I tried so hard to bury.

I didn’t even notice Sam until I saw his boots beside the table. Slowly, he crouched down and settled onto the floor, keeping a careful distance.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice low and soothing, like he was afraid to startle me. “I saw you run, and I... I heard what Dean said.”

I buried my face against my knees, too ashamed and overwhelmed to look at him.

“I’m sorry,” Sam continued, his voice full of sincerity. “For whatever’s going on with Dean, for what he said to you. He’s an idiot sometimes, and he doesn’t know how to handle his own crap, let alone anyone else’s.”

His words made me cry harder, and I could tell he was trying to figure out what to do. After a moment, I felt his hand brush against my shoulder, but I flinched instinctively, shrinking back further into the shadows under the table.

Sam pulled his hand back immediately, his voice full of regret. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll leave you alone. Just... come find me if you need anything, okay?”

“No,” I croaked, my voice shaky and barely audible. “Please... don’t leave me.”

He froze for a second, then nodded, even though I wasn’t looking at him. “Okay,” he said softly. “I won’t go anywhere.”

Sam stayed there, sitting silently on the floor beside me. He didn’t say another word, didn’t try to touch me again. He just waited, his presence a quiet reassurance.

Eventually, the sobs slowed, and my breathing evened out. Exhaustion pulled me under, and I drifted into a restless sleep, still tucked under the table like a scared child.

…

Sam’s P.O.V

Y/N’s hiccupping sobs had finally quieted. Her breathing was steady now, the tear-streaked tension on her face replaced by exhaustion. She’d fallen asleep, curled up under the table like she was trying to make herself as small as possible.

Careful not to wake her, I reached under and gently scooped her into my arms. She was lighter than I expected, and the way she shifted against me made my chest ache. Whatever Dean had said—or done—had clearly hit her harder than I realized.

I carried her through the dimly lit halls of the bunker, moving as quietly as I could. When I rounded a corner, I stopped short. Dean was standing there, leaning against the wall, his hand wrapped in a makeshift bandage. His eyes widened when he saw me holding Y/N.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper.

I glared at him, keeping my voice low. “She ran, Dean. She ran and cried herself to sleep under a damn table because of you.”

His face crumpled, guilt washing over him. “I didn’t mean to...”

“Doesn’t matter what you meant,” I shot back, though my tone softened at the sight of his obvious regret. “You need to fix this.”

Dean stepped forward, holding out his arms. “I’ll take her.”

I hesitated, my protective instincts flaring. “Don’t wake her up, Dean. She’s had enough for one day.”

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice low and solemn.

After a moment, I handed her over. Dean cradled her carefully, like she was something fragile, and I watched as he carried her toward their room.

…

Dean’s P.O.V

Holding her in my arms felt like both a privilege and a punishment. She was so quiet, her face still streaked with dried tears, and I hated myself for putting her through this.

I walked into our room, pushing the door open with my foot. The bed was still unmade from earlier, and I laid her down as gently as I could. She stirred for a moment, a soft whimper escaping her lips, before curling into a tight ball on her side.

It broke me.

I stood there, staring at her for what felt like forever. Every instinct screamed at me to stay, to sit beside her and tell her how sorry I was, to make her believe it. But I knew better. She needed space, and right now, I was the last person she needed around.

With a heavy heart, I grabbed a spare blanket from the closet and left the room, closing the door behind me.

The lounge room couch was cold and uncomfortable, but I didn’t deserve anything better. Not tonight. As I lay there, staring at the ceiling, her quiet whimper echoed in my mind, and I made a silent vow to myself.

Whatever it took, I’d make this right.

Oh no mistakes were made! Tumblr what have you done to me!!!! I confidently finished and submitted my Web Design assignment only to then go back and look at the Tumblr screenshot I used for my example and welp....

I am mortified! My Uni assignment has now been smut bombed and by Eddie Munson none the less!

The excitement is Real!

I managed to snag a ticket for All Hell Breaks Loose 12! I'll be going to Jared and Jensen's panel and meeting Rob Benedict and Richard Speight Jr! I'm beyond excited! This is my first ever convention too so double the excitement!

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love Part 19

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

1.4k word count

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings major character death

Original / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

The bunker felt different tonight.

It wasn’t the kind of change that came from a hunt or some looming threat. No, this was something softer—something warm, something filled with quiet anticipation. The air was charged, but instead of fear, it carried excitement, nervous energy, and love.

Theresa was having her baby.

The contractions had started hours ago, slow and far apart, until they weren’t anymore. She had insisted she was fine, pacing through the war room, snapping at Sam when he hovered too much. But now, as she lay in the hastily prepared bed in one of the bunker’s spare rooms, her face glistening with sweat, she no longer fought our presence.

Sam sat on the edge of the bed, gripping her hand tightly, his thumb brushing soft, soothing circles over her knuckles. I stood on the other side, one hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently every time she winced through another contraction. The room was dimly lit, and though exhaustion clung to every one of us, love filled the space so completely it left no room for anything else.

Cas stood at the foot of the bed, his expression calm as ever, but his grace flickered softly, casting a golden glow over Theresa. He was keeping the pain at bay, letting her breathe, letting her hold onto this moment without being lost in agony. It was a gift only he could give, and for once, she didn’t argue about accepting help.

Sam whispered encouragements, his voice thick with emotion, and Theresa squeezed his hand back, her own trembling.

“You’re doing so good,” I murmured, brushing damp hair back from her forehead. She turned her head slightly toward me, her eyes glassy but full of determination.

Then, with one final push, the sound we’d all been waiting for filled the room.

A cry—sharp, piercing, alive.

Theresa let out a breath, half-laugh, half-sob, as Cas took the tiny, wriggling bundle and placed him against her chest. She wrapped her arms around him instantly, eyes wide with wonder. Sam let out something between a laugh and a cry of his own, pressing his forehead against hers, their son cradled between them.

“He’s perfect,” Theresa whispered, her voice cracking.

Sam nodded, unable to speak, his fingers gently brushing the baby’s tiny hand.

Cas placed two fingers against Theresa’s temple, his eyes glowing softly for a brief moment before he stepped back, satisfied. “She’s in good health,” he confirmed, his voice gentle. Then, as quickly as he had come, he was gone.

I lingered for a moment, watching the way Sam looked at his son, the way Theresa held him as if he were the most precious thing in the world. Because he was.

Dean Robert John Winchester.

A name too big for such a tiny thing, but one that would carry him through life with all the love in the world.

Tears burned behind my eyes, but I blinked them away. This was their moment, their family.

But as I turned to leave, a weight settled in my chest, a quiet fear coiling deep in my stomach.

Theresa’s labor had been long, but Cas had helped ease her suffering. She had Sam by her side every step of the way, holding her, grounding her, reminding her she wasn’t alone.

Would I have that? Or would I be alone, just like I had been through every doctor’s appointment, every moment of quiet fear when I felt the life inside me grow?

I swallowed hard and forced myself to move. I couldn’t afford to think about that now.

I slipped away quietly, my heart aching and full all at once.

…

I lay on my side in bed, my hand resting on the curve of my stomach. The room was dim, the only light coming from the small lamp on the nightstand. Dean’s voice broke the silence, soft and steady.

“You know I’m gonna be here for you, right?”

I closed my eyes. The weight of it all pressed against my chest. In eight weeks, I would have two baby girls in my arms. Our girls.

I exhaled slowly, trying to steady myself. The thought of labor, of bringing them into this world, filled me with a quiet kind of fear. I had seen Theresa’s strength tonight, but I wasn’t sure if I had that in me.

A soft flutter beneath my palm reminded me I wasn’t alone.

Then, the air shifted.

I opened my eyes to see Cas standing at the foot of the bed. His presence was never loud, never intrusive, but it filled the space like something eternal. He stepped forward, his blue eyes settling on me with quiet concern.

Without asking, he placed his hand over my belly. Warmth spread from his touch, a gentle hum of energy coursing through me. I relaxed, feeling the tension ease from my body.

“They are healthy,” Cas said softly, his voice carrying an edge of something I couldn’t quite place. Relief, maybe.

I nodded, swallowing against the lump in my throat. “Good.”

He hesitated, his gaze flicking to mine. “I do not know if they will be like you.”

My breath hitched. “You mean—part angel?”

Cas nodded. “I have never seen a Nephilim have children before. It is… uncertain.”

I pressed my lips together, my fingers tightening over the fabric of my shirt. “So, they might not have powers.”

“They might not,” Cas admitted. “Or they may.”

I let out a slow breath, my mind racing. The idea of passing on something I barely understood myself was terrifying. What if they grew up feeling different? What if they struggled like I had?

Cas studied me for a long moment before speaking again. “No matter what they are, they will be loved.”

I nodded, my throat too tight to respond.

Cas withdrew his hand, his expression unreadable. “You are strong, Y/N. Do not doubt that.”

Then, like always, he was gone.

I stared at the empty space he left behind, my fingers tracing absent patterns over my stomach. The twins kicked softly, as if responding to my thoughts.

Strong. I hoped he was right.

…

Days passed, and I watched Theresa and Sam adjust to life as parents. Their world had shifted, their focus narrowed to one tiny, perfect baby. Hunting, the darkness, the things that had once been at the forefront of our lives—all of it faded into the background.

They doted on baby Dean, passing him between them with soft murmurs and quiet laughter. Theresa barely let him out of her arms, and Sam watched them both like they were his entire world. They were at peace. Truly at peace.

And yet, all I could think about was if I was putting my girls in danger.

How would I juggle hunting and motherhood? Could I? At what point would I have to train them? When would I have to teach them about the monsters that lurked in the dark? Would we take turns hunting and looking after the kids? Would I even be able to leave them at all?

Doubt weighed on me heavier each day as my due date crept closer. I envied Sam and Theresa’s confidence, their ease in stepping into this new life. I wanted to feel that, but the fear never left me.

I was bringing my daughters into a world that had never been kind to people like us.

And I had no idea if I could protect them from it.

…

The day came faster than I thought it would.

I had been restless all night, shifting in bed, trying to get comfortable. Dean’s voice whispered comforts in the back of my mind, but it did nothing to ease the tightening that had begun low in my belly.

By morning, the pain was coming in waves.

I gripped the edge of the dresser, gasping through another contraction, sweat beading on my forehead.

“Dean,” I whispered, voice cracking. “Dean, please—please don’t leave me. Please—”

But there was only silence.

The ache of labor was nothing compared to the ache of his absence.

Sam found me moments later and called for Theresa. They helped me to the same room where she had given birth weeks before. It felt different now. Colder. Empty.

Cas arrived quietly, his grace wrapping around me, dulling the pain but not erasing the fear. I begged for Dean again and again between contractions, sobbing his name even as my body pushed through the agony.

I screamed when the first girl was born. Cried harder when the second followed minutes later.

Cas confirmed they were healthy. Perfect.

And then he was gone.

I held them close, two tiny bundles wrapped in blankets, and sobbed until I couldn’t breathe.

They were here. My daughters.

But so was the grief.

So was the silence.

And I didn’t know how I was going to do it without him.