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You sighed to yourself as you continued to wash the dishes you had dirtied in the process of making and eating dinner. You weren’t sure what to do with yourself anymore, you had been a hunter almost all your life. You were even a solo hunter for a while after your father was killed by a demon, but doing that again didn’t seem plausible anymore. You had hunted with the Winchesters and Bobby Singer for so long, going back to solemnly hunting down the black-eyed asses alone seemed worse than getting a house in the suburbs. You indeed settled for the latter and a job as a waitress at the local dive bar. It had only been four months since Dean’s death, but it seemed like an eternity to you. You spent an entire year trying to save his life, and when you couldn’t, you and Sam were devastated. You guessed that’s why, at that moment, leaving Bobby’s without telling anyone where you were going or what you were doing felt like the best option. However, now you wondered what the last four months would have been life if you hadn’t thrown away your phone, or if you had just stayed put at Bobby’s.

You shook the thoughts of your basically adoptive family from your mind as you finished the dishes. It was almost time for you to go to work. You put the last pan back in its place and headed towards your bedroom. Changing out of Sam’s old tee shirt and Dean’s dirt-stained flannel to op for a pair of clean medium wash jeans and the work shirt that had been provided for you. You gave yourself a good look in the mirror before heading through your rented house to your, technically stolen from Bobby’s, car. It was a 1954 dark blue Chevy Bel Air. It wasn’t perfect, but it was always your favorite. Bobby regularly let you borrow it when you needed a car, but you still felt extremely guilty for choosing to take it over one of the less kept up cars in the junkyard. You slammed the door hard to shut it after you got in, hoping that the loud noise would finally get rid of the almost overwhelming thoughts of your sort of brothers and their sort of father, but it didn’t seem to help.

The drive to the bar was short, as it was only a few blocks away from where you were living. You were thankful for that. Even though sometimes guys would hit on you or there was a bitchy customer, you overall liked the job. It gave you a break from not knowing what to do with yourself. You pulled into one of the employee parking spots around back, smiling to your coworker as she hopped out of her car. She waited until you got out so you could walk in together, “Hey (y/n), how are you today?” she asked.

“I’m alright Deila, what about you?” you responded politely. She was always very nice to you, she was just a little talkative for your taste, but hey, at least when things slowed down towards the end of the night it wasn’t completely silent.

“Oh you know, busy with school, but overall good. What did you do today? It was really nice out,” She questioned, continuing the small talk as the two of you entered the building.

“The usual,” you replied shortly as you made your way behind the bar. The other two bartenders were happy to see you two, they were obviously excited to go home after working the impossibly boring afternoon shift.

“The usual? Isn’t that just hanging around your house reading?” She threw back, confused and a little concerned. You could hear it in her voice, you had learned to read people pretty well through hunting.

You shrugged back after taking your first order of the night, “Something like that.”

She frowned at you as you worked on pouring beer for the regular customer in front of you, “Is there are a problem Del?” You asked, a little bit sternly.

“It’s just… You’re a pretty girl, you’re fun to hang out with and you’re smart. Why don’t you go back to school or get a boyfriend? I know you said you lost your brother a while back, but-”

“Enough!” You shouted, cutting her off and gaining the stare of everyone in the room. Your cheeks turned pink as you handed the man his beer, “I’m gonna go work on cleaning the back rooms,” you said, leaving without another word.

About an hour of you organizing the storerooms went by before you heard Deila’s soft voice again, “Hey I’m sorry for trying to-”

“It’s fine.”

“I um… just wanted to let you know there’s a guy here to see you. He’s really cute and charming. He says his name is Dean.”
Your head shot up and your eyes went wide, there’s no way in hell Dean was alive. He was literally sent to hell. You watched him die. There was no way he was back. Your pulse began to race. You knew it had to be something trying to trick you. Some monster who was trying to lure you into the dark. You sat for a moment, thinking of a way out of this without making a scene. That’s when you saw the window. You jumped on top of a box to better reach the latches at the top of it, “Lock this back after I go and don’t tell him. You understand Deila?”

“What? Why? This-”

“This is very important okay? Just trust me!” You said as you hopped out, you watched her close and lock it back. She was looking at you extremely worried, but you didn’t have time to think about it anymore. You ran to your car, pulling out your keys, but as you turned them to unlock the door, you heard his voice.

“What’s wrong with you sweetheart? Aren’t you happy I’m back?” He called as he ran towards you. You started to fumble with the keys as tears clouded your vision, it looked and sounded like him, but there’s no way it could possibly be him. You mental begged your hands to work, but they continued to mess with the keys as if they had never used them before.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, “Get off of me!” you cried out.

Dean jumped back, “(y/n), it’s me. Really me. I’m here.”

You shook your head violently, “No there’s no way. I-I..watched you die! Th-This to be some sort of trick. Y-You…” You trailed off.

You had been struggling to let Dean go after his death, but you never talked about how you were feeling, you never let yourself cry. “Hey, you don’t need to cry. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”

You took another few steps back from him, going around to the trunk of the car. He seemed confused by this action at first, until you pulled out the handgun he had gotten for you at your last birthday, “You’re not Dean,” You said sternly.

He put his hands up, “Woah hey (y/n), you wouldn’t wanna shoot your brother now would you?”

“YOU’RE NOT DEAN!” You shouted as you clicked the safety off.

“Okay! Okay! Let’s all just relax huh? Just chill and talk this out.” He still had his hands up, he wasn’t moving to attack you or to comfort you, he was actually scared of what you might do.

“(y/n)! Put the gun down, it’s really him!” You whipped your head to the right to see Bobby and Sam running around the corner of the building.

Your tears became a solid stream at the sight of them, “But… He… I… We watched him die,” You cried, keeping your finger on the trigger.

“I know (y/n). Trust me, I know. I decked him in the face when I first saw him, but I promise you he’s the real deal, so why do you put the gun down?” Sam said as he made it to stand next to Dean.

Your shaky hands dropped the gun, falling to your knees as they did so. Dean was alive. Your almost brother was alive. The question running through your mind now was how?