"You're shivering."
"Wh-wh-what? No, I-I-I'm fine," he was right of course, but there was no way that you would ever admit that to Dean.
"Y/N, you're shivering."
"No, really. I'm fine, Dean."
The snow started to fall harder, and you wrap your arms closer to your chest. It was nearly midnight and you were still waiting for the ghoul to appear.
"Whatever," Dean huffed.
"I thought you said that Sam would be back by now."
"Well Y/N, he said that he would be. I can't control him."
"Sam needs to get here already. And he better have drinks."
The three of you had been waiting at the cemetery for nearly three hours when Sam left to get coffee. That was almost an hour ago, and now it was snowing harder. That wasn't unusual in northern Montana in the middle of January, but you hadn't come prepared. Dean had his leather jacket and Sam always wore about a hundred layers, so they were both fine. You, on the other hand, were only wearing a light flannel. It had been fine for a while, but now your shirt was nearly soaked through and you were shivering. You hadn't realized that Dean was speaking until he tapped your shoulder.
"Hey. You hear me?"
"Uh, no. Sorry."
"I said that I think it's here. Look," Dean gestured toward the other side of the cemetery where you could see a shimmering figure.
"I see it. Are you sure that's her?"
"I has to be. Come on."
Dean grabs his rifle from where it was leaning against a tree and you follow suit. Together, you pad silently across the graveyard. The snow crunches softly under your feet and you begin to shiver more. When you're only a few meters from the figure, Dean holds out his hand and you both freeze. The figure glides toward you and a look passes between you and Dean.
It takes you and Dean nearly thirty minutes to defeat the thing, and Sam pulls up just as it disappears. The younger Winchester walks over to the two of you, holding three steaming cups of coffee.
"Oh, so now you decide to join us," Dean quips, taking a cup gratefully from Sam.
"There wasn't an open gas station anywhere and I knew you wanted drinks," Sam dips his head in shame.
"Sam, it's okay," you say, reaching for the remaining cup.
"Thanks Y/N. I'm glad you appreciate me."
Sam smiles down at you and you lean in to hug him, earning a glare from Dean.
"Oh god. Y/N, you're freezing!"
"No, Sam, I'm fine."
"No, Y/N, you obviously aren't; you're soaking wet and you're shaking. Dean, how did you not notice?"
"I-I did," Dean stutters, "She wouldn't listen to me. Y/N tell him."
You can hear Dean voice, but his words don't mean anything to you. Sam is warm and you rest your head on his chest, letting him support you.
"Y/N? Y/N! Can you hear me?"
Dean's voice is worried, but it's all you can do to stay awake. You try to speak, but all that some out is a soft whimper. The last thing you feel before you pass out is Dean wrapping his jacket around your shoulders.
The first thing you notice is that you're moving. The next thing you notice is that your head is in Dean's lap.
"Y/N? Sam, she's awake."
Dean's voice grates against your brain, and you turn over to look up at him.
"No, Y/N, don't move."
"Dean, your voice is too loud."
Dean looks a little hurt, but when he replies his voice is softer, "I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you."
"I know, I know Dean."
"Y/N," Sam's voice is soft, "How do you feel?"
"Uh," you pause, "not good. I'm kind of numb, but my fingers hurt."
When he replies, Sam sounds a little panicked, "Dean, I think she might have hypothermia. We need to get her warmed up."
"I don't. Sam, I don't know what to do."
Dean takes your hand in his, trying not to panic.
"Dean, it's okay. We need to get her out of her wet clothes. Y/N, is that okay?"
"Yeah," you sigh, "that's fine."
Dean's runs his thumb over your forehead once before moving his hands to your shirt. He unbuttons your shirt with practiced ease. You try to reach up to help him, but he pushes your hands away. He lifts you slightly, sliding the wet shirt off your shoulders. Next, he reaches down to your waist, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them off your hips. His gazes lingers for a moment on your hips, but he quickly looks away. When you're left only in your bra and underwear Dean lays you down, holding your hands tightly and pressing a light kiss to your lips.
"It's gonna be okay," he says, cradling your head in his lap, "Sam, she isn't shivering anymore. Is that good?"
"It might be. It's either a very good sign or she is going into shock."
Dean gulps, "How can we tell if she's going into shock?"
"Only she can tell us. Y/N, are you feeling better?"
"A-A little, Sam. I can't really feel my fingers."
"That's alright," Sam replies, "Dean, rub her fingers gently. See if you can get the blood flowing."
Dean takes your hands, rubbing them gently between his own. After a few minutes of silence, the feeling begins to return.
"Sam, I can feel my fingers again. Is that good?"
"Yeah, Y/N, that's amazing. What about your toes?"
"They're fine. I'm feeling a lot better now, actually."
"Y/N, that's great. Dean, see if you can help her sit up."
Dean sets his hand on the small of your back, slowly helping you sit up. Once you're sitting up, you lean your head against his shoulder. You stay like that for a few minutes before becoming aware of your nakedness.
"Dean?"
"Yeah, Y/N?"
"Uh, I'm, uh…" you trail off, gesturing helplessly down at yourself.
Dean's eyes travel down your body, and his gaze feels almost physical.
"Oh, of course," he stammers, trying not to stare.
Dean helps you sit up, quickly pulling his flannel shirt off and revealing his bare chest. He hands it to you and you slide it over your head. Dean's shirt is too big on you, but it is warm and smells like his cologne. You lean your head on his shoulder, dozing on and off until you reach the bunker. Dean opens the car door and carries you into the bunker, laying you gently on your bed.
"Dean, I'm okay now. You can leave."
"No way, Y/N. I'm not leaving you."
"Dean, I swear that I'll be fine."
"No. I'm staying with you. I'll be right back."
You sigh, knowing that there's no way you can convince Dean otherwise. He walks out of the room, returning a few moments later and turning the light off as he closes the door. Dean flicks on the bedside lamp, walking into the connected bathroom. You hear Dean brush his teeth, returning a minute or two later and sliding off his jeans. Dean climbs into bed next to you and turns off the lights, pulling you close against his chest.
"You scared me today, love," he says.
"I'm sorry. You know that I never would on purpose."
"I know, Y/N. I just can't stand the thought of losing you."
"Oh, Dean," you sigh, "I love you."
Dean kisses you softly before pulling back and looking into your eyes, "I love you too."
You lay together for a long time before either of you fall asleep, but it's the best night of sleep either of you have had in a long time.