My Dog Is Sick. Fingers Crossed The Good Luck Post Makes Her Better.

My dog is sick. Fingers crossed the good luck post makes her better.

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

You are evil. I love it. 🥲

The Soldier - Chapter Twenty Four

Summary: Y/N comes from very little, but is married off to Sam Wesson, a rich and powerful lawyer in Kansas. Her only job is to give him children. But Sam works away a lot, and Y/N isn’t getting pregnant. One day, a soldier fresh from the Civil war knocks on her front door looking for shelter and food, and offering help in any way he can. She lets him in, and the relationship that forms between them comes with lies, betrayal and secrets that were meant to stay buried.

Chapter Warnings: major angst, guns, violence, major character death

Chapter WC: ± 2.5K

DISCLAIMER: Please check out the masterlist for the disclaimer for this series!

A/Ns: A big thank you to @little-diable for all her help with the historical facts and accuracy. This chapter is unbeta'd so please excuse the mistakes!

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Dean’s POV

Dean had been so relieved to see that Y/N was well at first, after not being able to see her for so long, especially once he had seen the doctor come and go from Y/N’s sleeping chambers. He’d tried to see her that night, but he couldn’t get in, which had worried him the most. He’d spent most of his morning pacing, wondering what could be wrong. Y/N had seemed fine the last time he’d seen her, she was a little restless with a nightmare like most nights, but she wasn’t sick, not that he could tell. He knew the moment he saw Greta leaving for town in the carriage that he had to try and see Y/N.

Now he can’t help but wish he hadn’t.

Dean can’t stop thinking about everything she told him, everything she said. He can’t stop thinking about the excitement he felt when she first told him she was pregnant. While Dean has always wanted children someday, he’d surprised himself with just how much joy the very idea of Y/N being pregnant had brought him. He could suddenly see the two of them in that house with a porch she’d described, with children running around them. A real family, like they should be. And then it was all too quickly snatched away. The baby isn’t his. The woman he loves more than anything is pregnant with another man’s child. And not just any man, but her husband. Fuck.

Dean had meant it, when he said he was willing to raise the baby as his own, that he still wanted to take Y/N away and care for her and her child. Family doesn’t end with blood, Bobby used to tell him that. Bobby was never technically blood, but he was family, and Dean looked up to him and cared for him as if he were his father, so Dean knows that regardless of what blood pumps in that child’s veins he could love it like his own, because it would be a part of Y/N, and he loves everything about that woman.

But she wants him to leave.

Dean doesn’t really cry. He gets angry and he punches things, or he screams across an empty field, or he takes it out on the enemy when they’re across from him. But he never cries. Yet right now, he finds tears streaming down his cheeks as he paces the barn he and Y/N have spent more than their fair share of moments together in, and he lets his mind race with thoughts about whether or not he should leave. It’s been twenty four hours since she gave him the order, but Dean’s not been able to stomach even the thought of walking away from her. He can’t. He can’t do it, he doesn’t want to do it, but if that’s truly what Y/N wants, then he will. He avoids her that morning, because he doesn’t want to upset her by being around after she’s made it very clear she doesn’t want that anymore. By the time she and Greta had left for town, Dean had found himself here, willing himself to leave and start walking. While she’s gone, it might be easier. At least that’s what he convinces himself even though he knows it’ll never be any degree of easy.

Dean’s hyping himself up, getting ready to set off, when he hears Sam’s voice bellow across the garden. “DEAN.”

Dean hadn’t even been aware that Sam was back, but he is, and he approaches quickly, two guns in his hands, which makes Dean a little uneasy. At first, Dean thinks he’s probably in trouble, that their secret has been revealed and Sam is about to put a bullet through Dean’s skull, but Sam doesn’t seem any more disgusted or annoyed with Dean’s presence than usual. “You know how to shoot a gun, right?” Sam grunts, staring Dean down.

“Yes, Sir, I was a soldier in the war,” Dean reminds him almost bitterly.

“Good, we’re going hunting.” Dean’s eyebrows raise at the comment as Sam thrusts a gun towards Dean.

“We are?” Dean can’t help but ask, taking the gun regardless.

“Yes, you know how to shoot, I know how to shoot, I want to hunt. Is there a problem, boy?”

Dean swallows hard and shakes his head slowly. He’s not sure what Sam’s up to, but Dean could let off some steam with a gun, so he goes along with it. It’s a little scary to Dean how easily he finds himself falling back into holding a weapon, and the two of them head towards the thick forest area on the border of the land.

“What kind of animals are in here?”

“The usual; deer, rabbits,” Sam replies flatly. Dean nods, keeping on high alert for movement further ahead. He’s taken back to moments in the war, tiny flashes of memories flooding his brain now and then, but not enough that he loses focus, luckily.

“You’re from Lawrence,” Sam says, breaking the silence.

“Yes, Sir, how did you know that?” Dean grips his gun tighter, feeling more and more uncomfortable with the way Sam’s treating him. It’s oddly… nice, which is the biggest red flag.

“Small world,” is the only thing Sam says in reply. Dean frowns to himself, but doesn’t ask any further questions. Sam glances back the way they came, but the entrance is merely a pin prick of light now, and the rest of the forest is dull, only slivers of sunlight getting through the gaps in the leaves overhead. “Did you have a family at home? Wife, kids?”

“No, Sir,” Dean replies, his eyes now watching his boots as they crunch down on the forest floor beneath him.

“Explains why you think you can steal mine, then,” Sam replies casually.

“Sorry?” Dean swallows, looking across at Sam.

Sam smirks to himself. “I’m not fucking stupid, boy,” he scoffs. “I know all about you fucking my whore of a wife.” Dean’s grip on his gun tightens, his finger curling around the trigger, just in case. “I should’ve known. She’s scum just like you. Scum attracts scum.”

Dean’s jaw clenches, he won’t stand for Sam talking about her like that.

“You know, it’s your fault. She probably would’ve loved you if you actually treated her like a human being, if you treated anyone like a human being. Y/N isn’t scum, she's kind and she’s beautiful, and she’s the most selfless person I know.”

Sam only laughs at Dean’s comment. “Wow you really fucking love her, don’t you?” Dean glares. “How charming. But you see, the thing is, she’s my wife, so her leaving me for you, to raise your bastard child together… that’s just not going to look good on me.” Dean’s brain takes a second to realise what Sam is saying. “Oh, you didn’t know.”

“I knew she was pregnant,” Dean insists.

“But you didn’t know it was yours,” Sam points out. “Can’t be mine, bitch hasn’t been putting out for me for weeks now.”

Dean’s heart starts to race. The baby is his. Y/N lied to him, but why? To make him leave? Does that mean she doesn’t want to be with him anymore? Then Dean thinks about all the other times she’s refused to leave too, about the money that Sam is paying her family. Fuck, she’s even more selfless than Dean even realised. The baby is his, and he’s going to be a father, and Y/N – the mother of his unborn child – is willing to give up everything they have to ensure her family has everything they need. Dean can’t promise her the financial security Sam can, and he knows he never will.

“Here’s the thing, Dean…” Sam steps closer to him, and Dean’s fight or flight kicks in, his finger curling a little more around the trigger. “I couldn’t give a fuck whose baby that bastard is, because I’m gonna raise it like it’s mine, let Y/N think she can fool me. I will raise your child as a Wesson. Did you know I was adopted?” Dean swallows, frowning. “No one else does, everyone believes I’m a true Wesson. People believe what you tell them.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’re not getting out of here alive. I’m going to make sure you’re done with messing with my family.” Sam raises his gun, but Dean shoots first, only to find that the gun just clicks, and nothing comes out. “You really think I was fucking stupid enough to give you a loaded gun?” Dean drops the useless gun immediately and throws a fist instead, catching Sam in the jaw off guard as he stumbles back. Dean fights with his hands for a moment or two, Sam hardly getting a swing in, because Dean can only assume the guy has never had to fight with his fists before. Sam’s gun drops to the floor and Dean’s quick to retrieve it, pointing it at Sam. Sam smirks, holding his hands up, panting heavily as blood pours from his nose.

“Shoot me. Y/N would lose everything. The house, the money for her family and her child… your child. Do you really want that?”

“She’s your wife, she’d get everything, if you ask me, it’s a win win.” Dean aims the gun straighter, and Sam chuckles.

“Not if she’s not the rightful heir, I already told you I’m adopted, I’m not even the rightful heir.” Dean frowns, letting down his guard for a second as he tries to think about it. He doesn’t really know how that stuff works. When John died he had nothing to leave behind. “It’ll only be a matter of time before the truth comes out and Y/N will lose it all.”

“Then I’ll keep you alive, tell everyone the truth, ruin your reputation and career,” Dean threatens.

“Sure, you could tell people. They wouldn’t believe scum like you over me.” Sam smirks. Dean grits his teeth. “This only ends one way, boy. I’m going to fucking kill you, either with this gun or by hanging you from a gallow for raping my wife, and then when you’re out of the way, I’m gonna deal with the bitch that thinks she can disrespect me.”

Dean pulls the trigger, the bullet slicing into Sam’s stomach as he stumbles backwards and falls to the floor. It felt good, and Dean only wants to do it again. He charges over to Sam and stands over him, pressing his foot into the wound, making Sam cry out. Dean raises his gun to shoot him in the head and put the evil son of a bitch out of his misery, but dark wood around Sam’s neck catches his eye and he drops the gun, falling to his knees to pull it out from under Sam’s clothing. Flashes of his mother holding the rosary and praying come to the front of his mind.

“Tell you what, baby, bring me my rosary,” Mary orders softly to Dean. Dean walks over to the windowsill and finds it there, taking it in his grasp. The wood is a dark deep red, tiny beads along the cord and a large wooden cross pendant in the center. The cross has M.W. carved into it, and Dean remembers his mother telling him about the day his father gave it to her as a gift. Dean hands it over, and Mary rocks the infant in her arms, patting her hand on his bottom. She takes the rosary and smiles. “Let’s pray.”

“Where the fuck did you get this?!” Dean grunts, his fingers instinctively finding the carving of her initials.

“It was my mothers,” Sam chokes out.

“Fucking liar! Where did you get it?!”

“It’s what I was wearing when I was given away.”

Dean tries to calm the baby himself, by singing and bouncing him on his knee, but the child’s face is screwed up and red and angry, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks, and Dean doesn’t know what else to do. He places the rosary around the baby’s neck, hoping that God will somehow soothe him, but it does very little.

Dean feels like he too has been shot in the stomach as he drops the cross and stares wide eyed down at the man dying beneath him.

“Sammy?” he chokes. Sam frowns. “No, no,” Dean starts to panic, looking down at the bullet wound in Sam’s stomach that’s now bleeding profusely. “No, Dad told me you died with Mom,” Dean explains, tears blurring his vision.

“What?” Sam whispers out.

“Before Bobby took you, I put the rosary around your neck. I wanted God to save you, but Bobby took you away with the yellow blanket, and… Fuck, God saved you.” Dean sobs, and then Sam reaches up to grip Dean’s wrist.

“Wait, you’re…” he’s struggling to speak.

“I’m your big brother. You’re a Winchester. M.W – Mary Winchester was our mother, she got sick and she died, and Dad sent you away… Sammy, I thought you were dead, fuck, what have I done?”

Dean starts pressing against the wound, then quickly strips his shirt, attempting to stop the blood flow.

“Dean, stop,” Sam chokes out, “it’s no use.”

“I’ll save you, Sammy, I will... fuck,” Dean panics through tears.

“Stop,” Sam orders. Dean looks at his baby brother, sees those hazel eyes he has always remembered, and wonders how he didn’t notice it before. This whole time Sammy has been out there, and Dean believed John when he said he’d died.

Dean feels sick, his hands shaking as he tries to stop the bleeding, even though it’s futile. He’s been in this position with brothers from war before, he knows how this ends.

“Listen, in the top drawer of my desk, there’s a diary. Read it, from the start.” Dean shakes his head, refusing to believe he could do this to his own brother.

“I’m so sorry, Sammy, I’m so sorry.”

“Read the diary, and then deal with it. You understand me? Think about what I’ve told you and deal with it.”

“No, Sammy, I don’t… no,” Dean shakes his head, not understanding anything anymore.

“Listen, I’m glad I know now about you and my family,” Sam whispers, his body starting to shake. “Thank you.”

Dean can’t hold any hate in his heart for his brother, despite how much he hated him moments before. Dean just wishes things had been different, wishes that Sammy had been raised the way Dean was. While it wasn’t the rich life Sam has led, it would’ve been filled with more compassion and love than Sam’s clearly ever experienced. Dean knows deep down that his brother wouldn’t be this way if he had been raised right. Sam isn’t evil at heart like Dean once thought he was. He refuses to believe it. He realises Sam isn’t shaking anymore, and his eyes are glassy and distant.

“Sammy?” Dean sobs, shaking his body gently. “Sammy?” He reaches up to feel Sam’s pulse in his neck but is met with nothing, and so he closes his eyes, reaching to use his fingers to encourage Sam’s lids to close too, and then Dean reaches forward, kissing Sam’s forehead softly.

Dean is shaking when he eventually rises to his feet to head back to the house, soaked in his own brother’s blood, which was his own doing. But he’s got to keep going, because now he knows that baby in Y/N’s stomach is his, and he has more than just Sam to think about, he has a whole family to think of, and he needs to get them out of this mess and figure out what’s so important in that diary that Sam used some of his last breaths to tell Dean about it.

Next Chapter >

Always and Forevers: @foxyjwls007 / @waywardbaby / @tatted-trina6 / @lunarmoon8 / @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone / @warrior-angel / @impalaspixie / @sexyvixen7

* * *

Supernatural Forevers: @moosekateer13 / @akshi8278 / @notyourtypicalrose / @angelofthetrenchcoats / @pyroqueen-k / @collette04 / @impala1967dwinchester / @blueaura / @beth-winchester21 / @laxe-chester67 / @bobbie3939 / @jaydahlynne / @michellemxndes / @allys-creative-bubble / @squirrelnotsam / @chocolateheart / @cluz1babe / @musicalraven100 / @iceythelostwinchester / @cutiecowgirl / @sacriceria / @pink-sparkly-witch / @justanotherficreader / @idblamekate / @waynes-multiverse / @idreamofdeanie

* * *

The Soldier: @siospins / @hoewkeyesblue / @ravenhood2792 / @lovelyrocker / @namelesslosers

yay!!!!

This! Ramble On! The Album also comes out one month after Dean’s Birthday!

he did not just name his album after Dean's favourite song...patient zero deangirlism

I can’t even describe the feeling of seeing Dean in action again. Doing more than just narrating this story. I cried and laughed and felt my heart beat like it used to. So, thanks for that.

later losers ✌️ gotta yeet back to hell heaven now - and yes the car has to come too

I cried. And then I cried some more. Amazing writing!

The Game

Summary: After Dean’s death, the reader isn’t in great shape and would prefer to stay home and be miserable. But when she gets a letter from Dean, she soon starts playing a game he created for her in the event that he died to help her try to get the closure she needs…

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 8,000ish

Warnings: language, angst, character death

A/N: Italicized wording is a letter from Dean. Enjoy!…

_____

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