Dear Diary,
Today was no different than yesterday. The same trees outside my window and the same cloud over my head. With Carter's death hanging over me, I can't help but feel worthless. It was my fault, no matter what dad says. I should have been there for her but I wasn't. Now she's dead because of me.
Your eyes began to tear at the thought of your best friend's death. It's been a week since you watched the flames engulf her pixie like body, and everyday you felt even worse, everyday another bottle or two of whisky stashed underneath your bed to hide them from your dad. He repeatedly told you it wasn't your fault. But how were you supposed to believe that when she was killed by the demon who killed your biological parents, the demon who'd been tracking you for the last twenty-one years.
You slammed the leather bound diary closed and tossed it onto your bedside table. You were currently propped up against the headboard of your bed, staring outside into the cloudy day. You hadn't left your bedroom for much, only to use the bathroom and get more booze. You hadn't eaten in the last two and a half days and your stomach growled violently.
The smell of bacon and pancakes wafted up from the kitchen and you sighed. He never cooked. He was doing this for you.
You rolled out of bed and padded over to your door, opening it and stepping out into the hall, the smell even more prominent. You made your way down stairs and into the kitchen where your adoptive father, Bobby Singer, was at the stove flipping pancakes.
"Dad?" You rasped. Your throat was dry and your voice was hoarse due to lack of use over the past week. Bobby turned to look at you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Hey, birdy," He said. You smiled slightly when he called you by your nickname and went over to the small table. He brought a plate over to you and set it down in front of you. "It's nice to see you up and around."
"Yeah," You mumbled. You took a bite of the fluffy pancake on your plate and moaned at the taste. Bobby chuckled and made his way back to the stove. He soon joined you and the two of you ate in a comfortable silence, the only sound the low hum of the rain pelting the world outside.
"So," Bobby said clearing his throat. You looked up from your plate and raised an eyebrow. "The boys are coming over. They'll be staying with us for awhile."
"Really?" You asked.
"Yeah. That's alright with you?" Bobby asked.
"Yeah! Totally. I haven't seen them in forever." You smiled. You hadn't seen your best friends in over a year. Whenever they'd drop by, you'd always end up being on a hunt with Carter. But you were finally going to see them. See him. Your heart swelled at the thought of the green eyed hunter and you found yourself genuinely smiling while you ate.
After breakfast, you went upstairs to take a quick shower and get ready for the day. You weren't planning on going anywhere but the brothers would be at the house in a little less than two hours.
You washed and conditioned your hair, scrubbed your skin until it was pink and smelled of your lavender soap and shaved your legs. You stayed in the shower for longer than you needed to, allowing the scalding water to run over your muscles and loosen the tense knots.
It felt good, to actually look forward to something after a week of moping around. You were usually the smiling, kind hearted person in the house. The one who could cheer someone up with a single smile or make someone smile when you laughed. You automatically lit up the room with your personality, a trait Carter loved in you. But you hadn't been that person lately.
You stepped out of the spray once it turned cold and wrapped yourself in a towel. Slipping back into your room across the hall from the bathroom, you flipped on the radio and began getting dressed into yourfor the day.
You brushed and dried your long, Y/H/C hair, pulling it up into a ponytail at the crown of your head. You applied light makeup and took a peek in the mirror, frowning slightly at what you saw.
You crossed your arms around your middle, trying to find a way to hide how your shirt clung a little too tightly around your hips. You tried hiding one leg behind the other to see if that would help make your thighs appear smaller. It didn't.
You were incredibly self conscience of the way you looked. You never were one of the "smaller" girls. You hated doing it, but you often compared yourself to Carter. She was small, with a flat stomach and slim legs. Your thighs were a bit too big and your hips were a little wider than you'd like. Not to mention the feeling you'd get when you saw the man you'd fallen in love with years ago flirt with other girls. Girls who were skinny, pretty and model material.
You sighed and shifted uncomfortably under your own gaze. Did you really think you'd have a chance with him? Honestly, you weren't sure. You'd like to think he wasn't all about looks. And to be frank, you weren't bad looking. Actually, you were a very attractive woman. It was just your body men didn't like.
The doorbell rang, pulling you out of your thoughts. Your heart fluttered in excitement and you immediately headed to your door. Throwing it open, you stepped out into the hallway and bounded down the stairs.
"Hey, Bobby," Dean's voice echoed. You smiled at the sound and rounded the corner to see your dad and Dean embracing each other.
"How are you boys?" Bobby asked. He moved to Sam next.
"Not bad," Sam said. "You?"
"I'm fine," Bobby said.
"Guys!" You exclaimed. Dean's head snapped up at the sound of your voice.
A smile spread itself on Dean's face and he rushed over to you, engulfing you in his embrace.
"God, I've missed you, Y/N/N," He sighed. He kissed the top of your head and pulled back to smile down at you.
"Ditto," You smiled.
"Don't hog her, Dean," Sam complained. He stepped back to let Sam take his place.
"It's so good to see you guys," You said. "You have no idea."
"Bobby called a few days ago. He told us what happened," Dean whispered. "I'm so sorry about Carter, Y/N." He gave you a sympathetic smile and you sighed.
"Yeah. Me too."
The night was spent catching up and reminiscing in old times. None of you had brought up Carter the entire night and it was nice to have something to take your mind off her. Being with your dad and the brothers was something that has always made you happy. Being able to laugh and be yourself.
"So, Y/N," Sam began. You raised a questioning eyebrow at the youngest Winchester. "Anyone special you want to tell us about?"
You laughed and shook your head. "Nope."
"Aw come on," He whined. "There's gotta be somebody."
"No one," You said. He groaned and rolled his eyes.
"Why not?" Dean asked. You shrugged.
"I don't know," You answered. "I guess no one is interested. But who would be?" The last words were quiet. You didn't think anyone heard but you were wrong.
"Bullshit," Dean growled. Your eyes widened a little at his tone. You looked over at Sam who just shrugged at his brother's attitude. Everyone was focused on Dean who sat with his arms crossed. "You're smart, you're funny and you're totally hot. Don't tell me there's no one interested."
His words stunned you. You weren't sure if he was telling the truth or if he was taunting you. He'd never said anything about the way you looked before. Not even to compliment the way you wore your hair one day or a t-shirt with a band he liked on it. He'd never given you two looks, so why the hell did he say that? Maybe it was the alcohol he had consumed. Yeah, that must be it. Because there was no way Dean Winchester could be interested in you.
"You're drunk, Winchester," You said. You forced a smile and rolled your eyes. He slumped in his seat and mumbled something under his breath. You didn't like when people toyed with your feelings. You've had enough of that from from people in your past. And coming from Dean, it was just another stab to the heart.
Sam cleared his throat and stood from his position on the couch. "I'm gonna turn in."
"Yeah, me too." Bobby yawned. "I'll see you kids in the a.m."
As Sam and Bobby made their way to the respective rooms, you stayed seated on the couch across from Dean. He was looking at you, his eyebrows furrowed and his green orbs flitting back and forth across your face.
"Did you really not believe what I said?" He asked suddenly. You looked back at him, your Y/E/C eyes locking with his. You sighed and leaned back into the couch cushions.
"Honestly? No," You said. He scoffed.
"Why?"
"Look, Dean," You said. "I've had enough people taunt me and I don't need it coming from you, too."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" He demanded. You felt tears prick at the back of your eyes. This was just plain mean.
"You can't honestly believe that I'd take your words seriously," You muttered.
"What? Kid, what are you saying?" He squinted at you in confusion.
"Don't call me that." You gritted your teeth. You hated when he called you kid. It made you feel weak.
"I'm sorry," He said. "Now, please tell me what's going on."
You fiddled with the bracelet on your wrist. It had been your father's, a simple leather bracelet with a single tiger's eye bead. You never took it off, not since he died.
"What you said before," You began. He cocked an eyebrow and kept his eyes on yours. "It's hard to believe what you said when you're... you and I'm me." Your voice was low and soft, the tears in the back of your eyes betraying you, allowing one to flow down your cheek.
"What do you mean?" He asked. His voice was sincere, which confused you. He really didn't know what you were talking about.
"I... I don't want to talk about this anymore." You stood up from the couch and made your way to the stairs.
"Y/N, wait!" Dean called behind you. He leaped up from the couch and towards you. He grasped onto your wrist and spun you around. "Please. Talk to me."
"What's the point, Dean? It's not going to change how I look. It's not going to change the fact that men don't like women like me. Women with thick thighs and extra weight." You said, the tears falling freely now.
"I that what this is about?" He whispered.You looked away, ashamed at what you said. But he cupped your cheek, turning your face to look at him. "Because that's bullshit."
"W-what?" You stammered. His face was dead serious, not a hint of sarcasm or bluff.
"You heard me. It's bullshit and I never want to hear you talking about yourself like that ever again, you got that? You're gorgeous." He stressed. You nodded and the corners of his lips raised slightly. "Good."
He kissed your forehead, his lips soft against your skin. He pulled away and brushed the baby hairs away from you face.
"Goodnight, Y/N," He said.
"Goodnight."
He walked past you and up the stairs, leaving you frozen and confused. What the hell was that? You touched the spot that Dean kissed, the skin still slightly tingly. Your heart was racing in your chest and your eyes were blown wide. You no longer felt that Dean was pulling on your leg. He seemed deadly serious when he said what he said. Maybe what he said was true. But it still seemed unlikely he'd ever want to be with you.
But a girl could dream.