The sunlight streamed in through the window, its harsh light breaking into your dreams and waking you up. Refusing to open your eyes just yet, you turned on your side away from the intruding light, hoping to snuggle into Dean and stay in this warmth for a little while longer. You stretched one arm out towards him but instead you were met with cold sheets. Reluctantly you opened your eyes, blinking away the final hazy bits of sleep that you so desperately tried to cling to, only to find that Dean had already woken up. He had, however, left a mug filled with coffee on your bedside waiting for you. It was still steaming, meaning he had probably been in here a few minutes ago. You smiled at the thought and sat up in bed, running your fingers through your tangled hair, convincing yourself to meet Dean, who was probably in the kitchen having breakfast. It was unusual for either of you to be up so early, but Dean was probably hoping to get a lead on how to defeat Michael. The thought of his smile when he saw you was enough to get you to abandon the comfort of your bed and you finally made your way to the bathroom to freshen up. Your citrus face wash and freshly brushed teeth had you feeling fully awake now and yeah, it was still too early for you to be energized, but you were getting there. If you wanted to, you could definitely go back to sleep and get another hour or two, but if you were honest, you’d rather just have breakfast with Dean. He had been so stressed lately, you barely got to spend time with him. This past week he had directed most of his energy combing through endless amounts of lore to figure out how to stop Michael and whenever he’d finally take a second to breathe, someone would come across a case to investigate. You sighed at the thought and hurriedly got dressed, throwing on Dean’s black tee and your skinny jeans. You grabbed your coffee, taking a sip as you started to head to the kitchen, which to your surprise was empty. From the study down the hall you heard a dull thud and a gruff “dammit!” which was unmistakably the voice of your boyfriend. Setting your coffee down on the kitchen table you made your way to the study to find Dean sitting at the table, hunched over an open book, with a stack of at least six others waiting to receive his attention. His eyes were shut tight, lips pressed into a line from frustration, one hand clenched into a fist, the other resting above his brow. He hadn’t even heard you come in.
“Baby, what going on?” You asked softly, your face full of concern. You knew he was stressed, but you hadn’t realized it was this bad. Dean jolted up immediately, trying to relax his features, guilt written all over his face as he met your worried gaze.
“Nothing Y/N, I’m fine sweetheart,” he said unconvincingly, looking away from you, knowing his eyes would betray him.
“Dean,” you said softly, his name sounding more like a plea than anything else, but he didn’t respond. He was in pain, and he was shutting everyone out. He barely talked to Sam or Cas unless it was about Michael or a case they were working on. Even Jack had stopped asking unnecessary questions, sensing Dean wasn’t up to it right now. You didn’t want to push him so you had been supporting him wherever you could — going through the lore at his side, reminding him to take breaks to rest and eat, and just trying to stay positive through it all — but this had gone on too long. You couldn’t stand to see him like this.
You sat down in the seat next to Dean, moving the chair over until you were close enough to rest your head on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around him in a side hug.
“We’re going to be fine, Dean. Everything is going to be okay,” you whispered, bring one hand up to cup his cheek.
“What if we don’t figure it out this time? I’ve gone through hundreds of books and I keep coming up empty. Y/N, I have no idea what to do,” Dean confessed, his voice full of anguish. You could feel your heart breaking at his words. Dean too often felt the need to shoulder the responsibilities of the whole world and sometimes he just needed to be reminded he wasn’t alone. This was one of those times. You pulled away from Dean so you could properly look at him.
“We always figure it out. That’s just what we do. You’ve got me, Sam, Cas, and even Jack to help you, babe. We’re never going to give up. I know it’s been rough lately and it feels like we’re running out of time, but we can do this. We’ve been in this same spot a million times before, and we’ve always managed to figure out a solution. We can do it this time too. I know we can,” You reassured him, taking his hand in yours and giving it a light squeeze. Dean nodded and stood up, pulling you up with him, and turned to face you.
“Thank you,” he said softly, leaning in to kiss you. It was chaste but it spoke volumes. It was the kind of kiss that said what he wasn’t able to articulate; that he was beyond grateful for you, that he didn’t know what he’d do without you. When he pulled away he rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes so he could just breathe you in and feel grounded.
“Of course, Dean, I’m always going to be here for you,” You responded, caressing his cheek. He leaned into your touch, a faint smile ghosting against his lips. “I mean…you do know that I’m hopelessly in love with you, right?” Your words transformed the faint smile on Dean’s face into a full on grin as he pulled you into a hug. You held onto to him a little tighter than usual, knowing he needed it right now.
“I love you too, Y/N. Especially when you wear my shirts,” Dean said, coming back to his usual playful demeanor. You laughed at his words and pulled away from his embrace and tilted your head up so his lips met yours. This kiss was different than the last. It was playful and passionate, your lips moving perfectly against his, his tongue teasingly swiping against your bottom lip. Dean pulled away for a second, his hands moving to wrap around your waist and pull you closer as he caught his breath.
“You make me feel invincible,” he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Maybe together we are,” You whispered back, a small smile on your face and Dean’s green eyes seemed to glow a bright emerald at the idea.
“I like that,” Dean stated, leaning in once more, “I really like that.” With that he closed the gap between you two, sliding his tongue between your parted lips. Your hands seemed to develop a mind of their own, your palms running across his back, slipping underneath his shirt and over his skin, fingernails lightly trailing over him. Dean sighed happily, his hands pulling you flush against him, his lips curving into a smile even as he continued to kissed you, and he knew that as long as he had you by his side he could handle anything the universe threw at him.