Tough Love ✔️

A Very Rude Awakening

You woke to feel the tight grip of two hands shaking your shoulders and the deep worried voice of a slightly familiar voice. Your eyes snapped open and you realised you had been sleeping...in the backseat of a car.

It was still dark, but you could make out the figure who was speaking to you, who had shaken you awake. None other than Dean Winchester. The hunter who'd you'd scared into thinking you were Homeland Security, and made pies for, and watched go to hell and -

No. They never happened, you realised.

You glanced to the date on Dean's watch and cussed internally. The day after the awkward date-like experience in the bar Vixen.

"______, tell me what's wrong, come on," Dean spoke to you softly, "Bad dream?"

You turned to face the elder brother of the Winchesters and in the reflection of those perfect green eyes you saw yourself like in a mirror - (h/c) hair wild and (e/c) eyes wide.

"What gave it away, then, Winchester?" you whispered, and wincing, turned your face toward the hotel room where, by the sound of it, Sam and whoever he'd brought back were still at 'studying'.

Dean exhaled. "I don't know, maybe it was the screaming?" You nodded, and a flashback hit you harder than a truck on the freeway going so fast it was on the highway to hell.

Headaches, pounding, roaring, harsh ear splitting pain inside the cranium. Visions. Angels; dicks, the lot of them. A guy named Castiel, sometimes not like the other angels. Pregnant...someone had been. You. You and Dean.

"Yeah?" you echoed.

"You also yelled out my name a bit." he exhaled, sort of like a chuckle. "First time that's happened not in sex."

You rolled your eyes. "Huh," you sighed. "Classy." And shrugged off his hands from your shoulders.

"You okay, though?" Dean asked you.

You nodded.

He chuckled, "No. You're not. You look like hell."

He went to hell.

You have a sarcastic smile. "I've had better days." You glanced up, looking at the interior of Dean's car. Almost pristine. "If you're so keen on hearing about what my dream was, it was literally the worst." You turned to face Dean, ignoring the sounds of 'studying' from the hotel room. "I stuck around you guys, and got abducted by demons and made you pie and -,"

Dean frowned, and you could tell he was unsure why you had stopped telling him. "C'mon, ______, you can tell me. It was just a dream."

You nodded faintly, struggling to believe what had just happened was only a dream. "You and I fell for each other, and then you died and came back and the Sam was possessed and - I got pregnant -,"

"Damn," He commented, sighing. "One dramatic dream or what?."

You shrugged. "And then Sam sort of died and you got distant and..." You didn't look at Dean. "It felt so real."

A laugh brought you back. "Yeah, well, things happen."

You smiled, glad someone had woken you up from that sad, weird and frankly messed up dream.

"That's why I like you, Dean," you smiled, relaxing back into him.

"Yeah?" He echoed.

"You don't judge unless something really bad is going on." You heard humming of the song he'd sung earlier for you - Blue Oyster Cult. "I know I'm a hunter, Dean," you whispered, "but could you fight away the bad dreams for the rest of the night for me?"

You heard his smile. "I'd love to." There was a pause, and he added questioningly, "hey, ______, what kind of pie did you make for me in the dream?"

You whispered back, "Pumpkin, mostly. Why?"

You heard a quick laugh. "You're my type of girl, you know that, ______?"

You opened your eyes to take in the fading night and the interior of the Impala and the general moment and a smile touched your lips. You were safe, now. With Dean.

But before you closed your eyes, you saw a figure at the end of the car park, just standing there. Watching you. Scraggly brown facial hair, a small tumble of head curls cresting the forehead. Wary, sad brown eyes, observing.

It was the man who had woken you up in your dream.

Earlier on, you'd called him something that wasn't much like any other name.

He was God.