Waves Between Us - Dean Winchester

1. Next Stop, Santa Cruz

Hi, my girly pops! So... fun fact: I live near the ocean, grew up surfing, with salt in my hair and everything ✨

Anyway...this morning I woke up and my brain said, "What if Dean Winchester... but surfer boy?" And I was like—excuse me?? Because now I can see it. The sun, the waves, the attitude... the man would look illegally hot. So clearly I had no choice but to write it. A few quick things before we dive in:

1. This fanfic has 13 chapters, and I'll be posting one per day (yes, we are being consistent, who is she?).

2. Every chapter will have music, very vibey/cinematic, but totally your call if you actually listen along.

3. I'll be posting this both here and on my tumblr account, because I like options and also chaos.

Anywayyy, I hope you guys like it!! Please feel free to like, comment, or share <3

Song for this chapter: Meet Me in the Woods by Lord Huron
Link (spotify): https://open.spotify.com/intl-pt/track/5gmf93vJq4IFwRP5GnA6oW

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Nashville in June was something else entirely.

The kind of heat that wrapped around you like a blanket you didn't ask for, humid and thick, but somehow still felt like home. I'd grown up here—in a city that breathed music the way other places breathed air. You couldn't walk down Broadway without hearing live country pouring out of every honky tonk, couldn't drive past the Ryman without feeling that little spark of pride that this was where legends were made.

Taylor Swift got her start here. So did Dolly Parton, Johnny Cash, Miley Cyrus. This city had a heartbeat, and I'd been listening to it my whole life.

I was in my room, finishing up the last details for my trip to Santa Cruz—a place I'd never been, to stay with a woman I'd never met. Well, technically I had. When I was a baby. But that didn't count.

I was adopted by my parents, Christy and George, when I was still a baby.

My mom knew my biological mother, Madelaine. They used to be neighbors, and Madelaine didn't have the financial means—she still doesn't, as far as I know. The only thing I've ever been told is that my biological father died, leaving her with no support and no way to take care of me.

That's when my parents decided to adopt me, and she moved to Santa Cruz.

What I never understood was why she never tried to find me all these years. And now, suddenly, when I'm already seventeen, she decides to reach out and explain everything that happened back then.

Especially since the only thing I know is that my father died. But how? That part was still a mystery.

"Sweetie, you want some breakfast?" my mom called from downstairs. "I made pancakes!"

I zipped up my suitcase and headed down, taking the stairs two at a time. The smell of butter and syrup hit me before I even reached the kitchen.

My dad was already at the table, reading the newspaper like it was still 1995, a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose.

"Morning, old man," I said, ruffling his hair as I passed.

"Old man?" He looked up, mock-offended. "I'll have you know I can still beat you in a race."

"Yeah, to the fridge maybe."

My mom laughed, setting a plate in front of me. "Be nice to your father. He's sensitive."

"I'm not sensitive," he muttered, turning the page with exaggerated dignity.

I grinned and dug into the pancakes. This was us. This was normal. Warm, easy, full of the kind of love that didn't need to announce itself.