Reader is gender neutral.
"You're insane!" Dean exploded at the young ghost who was sitting on the desk in the study of the haunted house. Laughing you smiled up at him. "I know, isn't it amazing." You swung your head around to look at Sam who was staring at the H/C. You had been around Y/A when you had been murdered. You was wearing a plaid red and black top with denim jeans. Swinging your legs a pair of black sneakers showing. The brothers needed your help in getting the murderous ghost that was killing people around your characteristics in the small town. Dean's apple green eyes glanced at you. "Can you help us?" Dean drew out the words slowly. Nodding slowly you agree. "But you have to do something for me." Sam glanced between both his brother and you. "Alright. But you have to help us first." You picked at your nails before stating. "The killer is buried at the cemetery on the hill. He threatened me into not telling and distracting you but you, Dean are the real distraction. You know all striking green eyes, smoldering good looks. He threatened to kill my still living brother and I would do anything to protect him." Dean looked at you oddly before telling you to wait there and they would be come back.
---Time Skip---
Dean and Sam returned to house bloodied and beaten but victorious. "You Hardy boys okay?"
"What did you want us to do for you?" Sam asked tiredly. "Salt and burn my bones." Dean's eyes flashed and Sam looked surprised. "I thought you wanted to stay around to protect your brother." Sam questioned. "Not anymore, I want to move on and be happy. Besides, he's happy and safe now that's all I ever wanted." Dean and Sam looked at each other before nodding and walking out the houses door.
Arriving at the cemetery, you watched as they dug your grave up salting the bones and adding gasoline. "So Hardy boys anything you wanna get off your chests before I go up in flames?" Both men looked at you with expressions of disgust, slight laughter and sadness. "See ya Y/N. It's been fun. I'll give you two a moment." Sam smiled at you. He walked away back towards the Impala stopping at a tree a few yards away. Dean looked over at you sadly his fan-fiction green eyes filling with tears. "Dean, I want to go. It's my time."
"Y/N, you could help us with cases, with everything thing that comes our way." Smiling softly, you shook your head moving closer to Dean. Dean's green eyes caught yours in a glance that was full of meaning. Secrets that neither of you would ever say aloud, things that you wanted to say but couldn't or wouldn't admit. "It'll be fine Dean, I'll be fine. Please burn my bones." Dean pulled his matches and looked up at you, capturing your eyes one last time. He stepped forward before striking a match and dropping it into the grave. Dean kept his eyes on you.
When the flames had burnt down, Sam walked back and helped him pile the dirt in to the grave. The walk back to the Impala was silent, Dean glanced back across the roof of the car, looking at the grave that contained you. Emotions and memories swirled in his eyes; grief, love, happiness for the time he had known you. The time he had met you shortly before your death, the time when he had seen you as a ghost. Turning to sit in the drivers seat, he turned the radio on and "Carry On My Wayward Son" played. Dean glanced behind him and could have sworn he saw your figure standing there.
As he drove away Dean felt something he never expected to feel after the death of any of the loved ones he lost.... acceptance.