Tell me, what makes you so special.

[Set in newyork_groove. bound_byfate is mine to use and abuse as I choose. Set about eight years ago, right after Sam left for Stanford when Dean was feeling a little reckless. yougottatrustme, ibrought_thison, and asmymen_depart are all referenced with permission and love.]

Dean needed something to do with his time.

He had spent the past eighteen years looking after Sam. John Winchester was a smart man, and a hell of a leader for the Winchester-Campbell crime family, but father of the year he was not. Dean loved his father, but he was often more concerned with keeping his family safe than actually spending time with his family. Dean had a job. It was take care of Sam. Take care of Sam he did—in fact, he might have protected him a little more than he should. Because now Sam was gone, and Dean was alone—and to be frank, he hated every fucking minute of it.

He was in a bar on the wrong side of town, but even that side of town knew not to mess with him. They knew who he was and that trying to kick him out of their bar would just make more trouble for them than they really wanted. They were more than willing to let him have his booth in the back of the bar and drink himself into oblivion rather than cause any trouble. It’s not like he didn’t pay. At least, until she walked in.

She was wearing a tight black dress that hugged all her curves in all the right places, along with just the right flash of pale cleavage at the top. She was practically built to get his attention, and he was aware that it might have been a little too much of a coincidence, but he was a little too drunk to care at the moment, and was more than willing to try and get that cleavage to fit in the palm of his hand without getting slapped. It took way faster than he had anticipated, but he was high on endorphins and alcohol and was more than willing to follow her back to her hotel room and let her have her wicked way with him.

That had the potential to be a bad move.

( *** )

1136 words

[Response to THIS (WARNING: Major character death). Because apparently my Dean can’t let her Sam do anything without commenting on it. Go figure. Not binding on any other canon muse.]

“We don’t know what we want, but we’re ready to bite somebody to get it.”

This was—odd.

Once he died the second time, he didn’t really think he’d be the haunting spirit type. But this time around, he didn’t really think he was a—spirit. Because he wasn’t exactly bound to anywhere, and he didn’t exactly feel angry, he was just kind of—there.

As he said, this was kind of odd.

“So what am I supposed to be doing again?”

Tessa looked back at him with a smirk, before rolling her eyes. “You’re watching.”

They were both perched on the edge of Bobby’s couch, watching as the people moved through the house slowly. There weren’t many people—mostly Sam and Bobby with the baby on occasion, or the spare hunter or two coming by to express their condolences. It was a bit weird at first, until Dean figured out that he was actually dead, but there was a bit more zen to it, this time around. He was—surprisingly at peace with the whole deal. And he didn’t think that was quite of his own doing.

Then Tessa showed up.

“You know, I’ve never been all that good at watching stuff,” Dean said with a sigh, a brief smile crossing his face as he watched Bobby with his son. “I’ve always been more of an action kinda guy.”

( *** )

1089 words