It was 3 o'clock in morning when you found yourself jumping from the bed and rushing to the window, pulling back the curtains to look outside. The Impala was there parked in the lot but you didn't see anyone. Suddenly you heard a loud knock on the door.
"Open up, (y/n). It's me, Dean." He sounded quite angry and worried. You rushed to the door and unlocked it. Once the door was open you quickly assessed the scene and screamed. Dean was covered in blood and in his arms was an unconscious Sam with a gruesome, still bleeding, gash through his stomach.
"Don't just stand there," Dean shouted, "Help me!" Right, (y/n). Now is no time to be a pussy. So you immediately helped Dean rest Sam on the bed. Dean rushed to the bathroom while you found some scissors. After carefully cutting Sam's T-shirt to see the wound you gasped, noticing just how horrible it was.
"Dean!" You cried out, tears starting to roll down your cheeks. When he appeared next to you he looked even angrier than before.
"Bring me whiskey; it should be in the cupboard." He said coldly. Without any hesitation you began searching the cupboards for the alcohol while Dean was preparing the supplies to stitch the gash up. Finally you found the whiskey and came to Dean.
"How can I help?" You asked. You could hear the fear in your voice but you didn't care; you needed to do something! Dean looked at you. He appeared a bit calmer, but he was still worried; you could see it in his green eyes.
"Slowly disinfect the gash." He said sadly. Leaning over Sam you poured a bit whiskey into the wound. Sam didn't move. Oh god. He had to have lost a lot of blood to not feel this. Fuck!
"Can't we call Castiel?" you whispered.
"What, do you think I haven't tried that? The fucking angel isn't answering." He snapped.
"Maybe we should drive him to the hospital, Dean; it looks serious." Dean responded by picking up a needle to begin stitching up the gash.

"I have seen worse. Don't worry; he will get out of this." Dean's voice got softer. When he was finished the wound didn't look so horrible. Sam was still breathing so everything should be alright. While you were bandaging Sam's injury, you were startled by his sudden mumbling; he was beginning to wake up.

"Dean, I think he has a fever." Suddenly you heard a sound of flapping wings. You turned around to face Cass. Dean stood up.
"Where the hell were you?" Dean demanded, raising his voice.
"I am sorry Dean. I was busy." Castiel said calmly. He tried to place his two fingers on Dean's forehead, but Dean shook his hand down.
"Help Sam. I don't need it." Cass shrugged and walked to Sam. He frowned.
"What has happened to him?" He asked and turned to Dean.
"We were fighting against demons and we underestimated them." You began to feel very uncomfortable here. Although you were worried about Sam, you needed to be alone. You went to bathroom and while washing your blood covered hands you began to sob quietly. You didn't want anyone to hear it. You slumped to the ground and stared at your blood stained hands, realizing that you have never seen anything like this; you have never seen so much blood. You have never ever been so scared to lose someone.
What has happened to my life? You closed your eyes and inhaled sharply. I have to go back there and help him. You washed your face and looked at your reflection in the mirror; you look awful. Your eyes are red from crying and you look very tired, but you don't care right now. You just want Sam to be alright. You ran your hand through your hair. Get yourself together!
You walked out of the bathroom to find Dean sitting at the table and drinking from the same bottle of whiskey that was used to disinfect Sam's wound. Castiel was gone and Sam was still unconscious, but his breathing was at least regular. You carefully sat next to Sam and stroked his face. Oh god, I wish he was awake! You stood up and walked towards Dean putting your hand on his shoulder.
"Are you alright?" You asked. He looked at you, concern in his eyes.
"Yeah, what about you?" He replied quietly.
"I don't know…" You sighed. He passed you the bottle of whiskey. You accepted it gladly and took a deep sip. It burned your throat and you chuckled at Dean. He returned it with a smile. You sat down on the opposite chair. The two of you drank and laughed but remembered to regularly check Sam to make sure that he was still doing alright.
You needed to get away from your thoughts and worries. You were very drunk when you noticed that Dean still had some wounds on his beautiful face. You hadn't noticed how beautiful he is. You have never seen such green eyes and those little freckles around his nose are so lovely.
"Why didn't you let Castiel heal you?" You asked him just when you started to feel a bit dizzy.
"Because he pissed me off and he also didn't have enough power."
Smirking, you looked at him and said "Now let me take care of you." Right when you stood up the world spun and you had to find support in the table.
"Are you sure you will manage it?" Dean chuckled.
"Shut up, Dean. I know what I am doing." You stumbled to the bathroom and found a towel. You walked back to the kitchen where Dean was still sitting and looking at you. What did I want to do with this? Oh yeah! You walked to the sink and washed the towel with warm water. You turned around and smiled at Dean who was sitting at the table, waiting for you. You staggered and fell into Dean, but was caught by his embrace.
"Woah! You alright?" He asked you.
"Of course." You giggled. Dean sat you more comfortably on his lap. You raised your head and looked straight into his beautiful eyes. His arms were around your waist, holding you tightly. You shook your head to clear your mind. Stop it! Sam is right over there. You began wiping away all of the blood from Dean's face. He was so close! While you were aiding him, you noticed that he had a torn lip. You moved your hand to meet the small gash. His lips are so beautiful. I would love to taste them.…Wait, what?! You looked into Dean's eyes and noticed that he was looking right back at you. Your heart started to beat faster. You bit your lip and looked at his lips than back to his eyes. How can someone be so hot? He smirked and leaned over to kiss you. You were surprised. Is this really what I want? Well, I don't care now. His lips were so soft and tasty. He bit your lower lip. Oh God. He is such a good kisser. You let his tongue find yours as his hand simultaneously began stroking your back.
Suddenly he grabbed you and put you on the table. You wrapped your legs around his waist; your arms were around his neck, pulling him closer to you. His hands were on your hips. You moaned when he started to kiss your neck. You ran your fingers through his hair. He found his way back to your lips and kissed you even harder. With your legs still secured around him, he grabbed your bottom and carried you to the bed. He dropped you down, allowing himself to fall on top of you.
You had totally forgotten about Sam who still lay unconscious on the adjacent bed. Your mind was full of alcohol and emotions. You needed this; you needed something to forget all the horrible things. When Dean tore off his shirt, you put your hand on his tattoo and looked at his beautiful chest, thinking to yourself: What am I doing?

P.S.:I would like to thank user DancingWithAGun who helped me and corrected my grammar mistakes!:) thank you:))