A New Life (Dean Winchester X Demon Reader)

Hello Darling

Dean seemed surprised that you had turned your hand and wound your fingers through his, but instead of saying anything, he just closed his hand tight, making sure you couldn't change your mind and let go.

"So, who's this Crowley? " You wondered out loud. Dean's hand tensed a little over yours, but he didn't say anything. Sam was the one to answer you.

"Crowley is an acquaintance of ours, and he knew you well. He has certain abilities that might be able to help this situation," he explained carefully, watching you closely. 

Wanting your memory back, you made a quick decision you would do anything because this man holding your hand seemed to have a huge part in your past. And as he gently traced patterns on the top of your hand, you wanted to know exactly what that role was, and how you felt about him.

"So, call him. Let's get this over with," you answered simply, earning a chuckle from both men. "What?" you asked incredulously.

"Crowley doesn't always use a phone," Dean explained. He slowly pulled his hand away from yours, and immediately you missed the contact. "Why don't you go with Sam to the kitchen," Dean suggested. "He'll fix you up some grub while I try to get a hold of Crowley." 

You watched Dean's retreating back until it disappeared down the hall, before turning to his brother. Just then your stomach rumbled, loud enough that Sam heard it. Raising an eyebrow, he stood up. "I take it your hungry," he chuckled. 

"Yeah I ordered a hamburger at the bar, but I left before I could eat it," You explained, following Sam down another hall, away from Dean. Sam turned right, stepping into an old fashioned industrial style kitchen. 

"This whole place is so cool," You exclaimed, looking around at the stainless steel table and huge fridge.

"It's the men of letters bunker. They were a type of scholars, but they were disbanded in the 50s. We're legacies." Sam explained as he pulled sandwich items from the fridge. Sitting at the table you watched him as he made each of you a sandwich.

"Hey, Sam?" You started. He looked up to show he was listening but didn't make a move to answer. "Did you really know me?"

Setting your food down in front of you, he slid into the seat across from you before answering. "Yeah, we did." He answered simply.

You both sat there quietly munching on your sandwich before you spoke up again. "And Dean, were we...," You started, not knowing exactly what you wanted to ask.

Sam gave you a soft smile. "It's not my story to tell. I'm just glad he found you, and hopefully, everything will work out." Sam said mysteriously.

"What happened to your face?" You asked, really noticing his fading bruises and cuts that covered his handsome face for the first time.

Standing up, he took both of your plates and placed them in the sink. Leaning against the sink, he crossed his arms. "It's a long story. I was kidnapped, and there was a huge fight," he told you, and you had a feeling he was skipping over a lot of facts. Before you could ask for more information, Dean stepped into the kitchen, coming to stand beside you. 

"He actually answered his phone," Dean exclaimed, before making his own sandwich and tearing into it. "He said he'd be here soon." Dean finished, his mouth full of food.

Dean took his sandwich, heading back into the library, and you followed, Sam walking beside you. They both sat down at one of the long wooden tables, but you were too nervous. You wandered around, examining the rows of books, trailing your fingers along the spines. The smell of bound paper and ink comforted you. A lounge chair was scooted in the corner, with an end table beside it. A book was perched on the end table, a tattered bookmark sticking out from the top. Picking it up, memories flashed quickly, of you reading this book over and over. It was one of your favorites. 

"I don't know how many times you've read that book, but you would always pick it up when you've had a bad day." Dean said softly from beside you.

Holding the book tightly to your chest, you gave him a smile. "I actually remember this book." You said.

"That's great!" Dean exclaimed. "Maybe more of your memories will return soon."

You wished they would return quickly because the man in front of you was glancing down at you, his green eyes darkening in an emotion you weren't sure you wanted to name quite yet.

"Dean, what were we?" You asked quietly, disappointed when your question caused him to look away from you.

"Our relationship was complicated. It seemed to be getting better again before..." He started, before trailing off.

You wanted to ask before what, but you weren't sure you would get an answer from him either. He went to head back to the table, when you placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. "Dean, was I a good person? I just saw those glimpses, and they frighten me."

Dean grabbed your chin, making sure you were looking at him. "You were a very good person, better than me. Don't let your memories or doubts let you forget that." He insisted.

Before you could answer him, the voice from your dreams sounded from the stairs. "Hello Moose, where's Squirrel?"

Dean placed your hand in his, before stepping out from behind the bookcase, striding over to where Sam was sitting, creating what you considered a united front against the visitor.

Dean kept you hidden behind him, out of the view of the man who must be Crowley.

"Ah, there he is. What are you hiding from me?" He asked, coming to stand at the front of the table. You weren't able to see him yet, because of Dean's wide shoulders.

"Hey, Crowley. We were wondering if you had any idea about this?" Dean asked, before moving to the side so you could see, and be seen.

You both stared at each other in shock. The man in front of you was exactly what you remembered in your dreams. His dark hair and eyes, the little bit of scruff on his chin, the black tailored suit.

"Y/N?" He finally asks. "What are you... you were..." He stumbles across the words.

"How do I know you?" You asked, which seemed to confuse the man. His mouth hanging open, he stared between you and Dean, trying to get a grasp on the situation.  

"Why don't you sit." Sam offered, and everyone took a place around the table. You made sure to sit by Dean, wanting the comfort he seemed to provide you. 

Crowley was busy studying you, his eyebrows drawn in confusion.

"Did you bring her back?" Dean asked, and you were confused. Brought you back? From what?

"No." Crowley croaked. "Whoever did, changed things up a little bit."

"What do you mean?" Sam and Dean both asked at the same time.

"Well that's Y/N, there's no doubt about it. But she's different. She's no longer a Demon."