THE FAMILY BUSINESS: FOURTEEN
Summary: Hermione's peaceful, yet boring life is disrupted when notorious hunter, Dean Winchester, walks into her book shop. Dean's life is completely changed when he meets, Hermione Granger, Brightest Witch of her Age. But maybe that's just what they both needed. A series of one-shots based on their lives together. Mostly Dean's POV. Rated M for a reason.
Disclaimer: I do not own canon events and characters, they belong to J.K Rowling and the creators of Supernatural. I am not making a profit from writing and posting this fanfic.
AN
You guys have been so supportive and wonderful lately, that I'm giving you a massive 11,000 word chapter. I honestly don't know how I do it, I've even surprised myself. I'd only intended on this being around 4,000 words but I just couldn't stop writing. For me, it's four o'clock in the morning. You read it right, four in the morning, and I stayed up to get this chapter finished for you. The things I do for you.
I know I promised no cliff hangers with this fic, but I couldn't help myself and just had to give you one. And hopefully, I made it up for it by making sure this chapter is full of humour. Hermione and Jon at their best. Honestly, I've never had so much fun writing character interactions than I have with these two. I think they're my new favourite.
Enjoy! Lord knows I had fun writing this one.
Q&A
BlueMoon007 – Exactly, he's far too serious and I do enjoy doing something different with canon characters. And we've got more Hermione and Jon humour throughout.
Padfoor'smyMan – You enjoyed their interaction in the previous chapter? Then you're going to love this one.
Lionhearted21 – You're very welcome, here's some more stress relief.
Applejax XD – Me too, but it's too early to kill him off just yet, so I'm going to have my fun until that canon event pops up.
Meldz – No, not quite so annoying, but I couldn't help myself.
Page count: 25
Warm, soft fingertips gently explored the skin of his stomach, circling around his belly button, smoothing over his abs, tickling over his chest, teasingly skimming his right nipple.
"Dean... Dean, wake up," Hermione muttered, her voice a husky whisper, her breath tickling over the skin of his neck as she buried her face against him, her nose nuzzling at his throat.
A groan caught somewhere between the back of his throat and his chest and he tipped his head, not sure if he were trying to give her more room to allow that clever mouth of hers to nip and lick at his skin, or if he were trying to get away from her.
His entire body ached. He was certain he'd pulled every muscle possible. After going about their usual day of tracking down leads, researching and interviewing possible witnesses or the victims' families, Hermione and Dean returned to their motel, Dean receiving a text that his father had, indeed, taken Sam to a nearby diner to buy him dinner with the intentions of grabbing a few beers after before getting a taxi back to the motel.
He'd barely set foot in their room when something inside Hermione snapped and she pounced on him, barely giving him time to let the cats out for a wander of their surroundings. She didn't bother with stripping him of his clothing, something he knew she loved doing, rather, she'd magicked them off, leaving him as naked as the day he was born within as little as a few seconds. She only had one goal in mind when she vanished her own clothing, pushed him onto the bed, claimed his mouth and grasped him in her hand, giving a few pumps until he was hard and ready and then sank down onto him. When she'd found her end, collapsing on top of him in a flushed, sweaty and boneless mess, the curtains had caught fire.
She'd explained before how emotions could affect her magic, how feeling frustrated could alter her control, but that was supposed to be after months of build-up. They'd barely gone three weeks without sex and the outcome of her burst of magic had surprised him. But he supposed, they'd been together for quite a while and Hermione was used to regular stress relief, and suddenly being without it... She'd technically gone cold turkey.
She'd managed to put the fire out as soon as it had begun, not looking the least bit surprised by it and once they'd both calmed, she'd dragged him to the bathroom, lathered and washed every part of his body and before he could return the favour, she'd sank down onto her knees before him and took him in her mouth, watching him beneath her eyelashes.
He could admit, it had taken him longer than usual to regain his bearings after but he'd been sure to render her speechless, repaying her in kind for her extensive cleaning of his body and later giving her two orgasms with only his mouth and fingers.
They'd found their way back to bed, neither bothering to dress as Dean switched on the TV and ordered takeout from a list of menus found in the bedside cabinet. He'd barely eaten half of his dinner when Hermione drew his attention. She'd abandoned food in favour of mapping out his body with her mouth and tongue. She never abandoned food.
Several hours later found that neither Sam nor his father had returned and Hermione took that as a sign to convince him to drink down one of her magical potions, something she said was a 'magical energy drink' and he'd found himself with a new burst of life and energy. He'd been the one to pounce on her that time.
Throughout the remainder of the night, Sam didn't return to their room and when they'd heard movement from the room beside them, she'd used magic to not only prevent sound from escaping but to lock both doors. His father would just assume they were sleeping and they'd deliberately blocked it or barricaded it and leave them alone, Sam would know better. He, of course, had a key, but again, he knew better than to open the door if Hermione had magically locked it and silenced it. It was a huge red flag Sam never ignored for fear of what he'd see, what Dean would do to him, or worse, Hermione. Dean wondered if Sam would bite the bullet and share with his father or if he'd be petty and sleep in the car despite there being two beds.
Dean knew he was a young, attractive male in his prime but he'd been surprised and admittedly, amazed, by his own virility. How he'd been able to keep up with Hermione was a mystery to him and he was a little suspicious there may have been more to the potion than she'd originally let on. She'd kept him awake all night, barely allowing him a half-hour break in-between before drawing him back to her.
And as Hermione's fingers skirted lower, dragging him from the slumber he so desperately wanted to cling on to but couldn't, his entire body hurt. He'd had her on every surface in the room; the shower, the table, the floor, against the wall, on both beds –something Sam would cry about if he found out- and he honestly thought that if he had her again, it would kill him. He was half convinced she was part succubus. She'd taken everything from him and at the time, he hadn't been complaining, far from it, but now, as sunlight broke through a slight gap in the curtains and Hermione's hand continued moving lower, he needed strong painkillers, food and a long-ass nap.
"Dean... Wake up..." He made a sleepy grumble of disagreement, his breath catching the moment her hand wrapped around him, stroking teasingly. Yes, that hurt, too and her touch was pained-pleasure.
"I can't," he muttered, his eyelids feeling heavy and he struggled to open them so he gave up trying.
"You can, just one more time, please? We don't know when we'll have this opportunity again."
"Baby, I physically can't."
"You can," she disagreed, a knowing tone to her voice and should he find the strength to open his eyes, he was sure she'd be smirking. He knew why, too. He was hard and heavy in her grasp.
"How aren't you tired? I'm exhausted," he grumbled, and despite his words and his brain telling him it might kill him, his body didn't listen nor care for the ache as his hips jerked in time to her pumps.
"The potion," she answered, pressing kisses down his neck and over his shoulder.
"We both took it," he reminded her.
"We did, but you have to remember, magical potions are intended for the use of magical folk, not those without magic. As such, any potion we ingest will be more effective for me than it is for you. Basically, you get diluted results whilst I get the full whack of it. I've got a good few hours in me before I crash."
Dean groaned, both from the attention her hand was paying to him as she twisted her wrist and did something with her nails that had shivers running down his spine, and her words. All he could think was, not again. He couldn't do it again.
"Aren't you sore? I feel like I've been hit by a train and slept with a succubus."
"You calling me a succubus? A sex demon?"
"Damn right I am," he muttered, somehow finding the strength to roll onto his side and he forced one eye open, locking on her face as she hooked her leg over his hip
She was sex personified. Her hair was wilder than he'd ever seen it; a huge cloud of tangled curls she'd later complain would take her hours to brush. Her eyes dark and intense with heat and need. Her pale, scarred flesh hot and soft. Her face flushed. Her chest rising and falling with every breath she took, brushing against his own. The heat of her body, of her centre, radiating over him. God, was she stunning! And she was his.
"Not sure if I should be offended or not," she replied thoughtfully. "On one hand, we kill such beings, on another, it's almost a compliment. You're literally saying I've shagged you to death."
"Near-death," he corrected, holding in his wince when he lifted his arm, settling his hand on her thigh and sweeping it over her soft, warm skin. "You've been damn right insatiable."
"Hmmm," she hummed. "Yes, I'm sore but I can't find it in me to care right now. I want you. All of you. Come on, Honey, I never thought I'd see you turn down the chance to render me speechless."
"I've been doing it all night," he protested.
"So, one more time won't kill you."
"It just might, and if it does, I'm gonna spend my death haunting your pretty little ass."
"Oh?"
"Hmmm, I've always been a fan of peeking on you in the shower, would you mind if a spirit joined you every once in a while?"
"Wouldn't be the first time," she snorted. He opened both eyes at her words, a strange possessive feeling welling up in his chest. "Long story," she shrugged. "So, am I stopping and tending to myself in the shower."
"Only if I can watch,"
She smiled at him, the fire in her eyes setting his skin ablaze.
"Maybe next time."
He groaned, his eyes closing briefly and he blinked the remainder of the sleep from his eyes.
"I swear, there's something wrong with me," he sighed in defeat. Really though, if he didn't want to, he wouldn't. It was her. He couldn't resist her."You be on top, I might break something. And, please, Baby, have mercy on me."
"Mercy? As in, drag it out until it's unbearable and you lose your ability to breath, think, it's so overwhelming? To go slow and be mindful of the ache? Or to ride you like a disgruntled dragon?"
"Fucking hell, witch," he groaned. She never spoke like that and if she didn't do either one of those things soon, he'd die. "I don't know and I don't care."
"Ladies choice then," she muttered, pushing him onto his back and moving to straddle him, positioning him at her entrance. "Well, Winchester, buckle up and let me do all the work."
He temporarily lost his vision when his eyes closed at the feeling of her sinking down onto him, her warm, wet channel taking all of him and squeezing tightly. This was something he could never tire of.
~000~000~000~
"Fuck! Baby, you've done it, you've killed me," Dean groaned.
His body ached more than it ever had. Whilst he'd been quite happy to lay back, relax and allow Hermione to do all the work, it wasn't in his nature to do so for long and despite his brain screaming at him, he'd made sure they'd both worked equally as hard to find their end. Coming down from his high, his aching body now regretted it.
"You'll be fine," she panted, pushing her hair back from her sweaty forehead and working to get her breathing under control. "I'm sure a dead man doesn't complain nearly as much as this."
"I'm torn between shooting you and worshipping the ground you walk on," he turned his head, seeing her serene expression as she stared up at the ceiling from where she'd collapsed beside him.
Her head turned to lock gazes before she rolled to face him, her hand coming up to press against his chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns.
"I know which I'd prefer," she purred.
Dean groaned. "Oh God, no. Please! Not again," he begged.
Hermione laughed and shuffled closer to him, resting her head against his shoulder as she tucked herself into his side.
"I never thought I'd see the day. I've done it, I've broken Dean Winchester. Do you remember the first time we slept together? I believe a challenge was issued. Well, I've won."
"You haven't broken me," he protested.
"No?" She lifted her head and cocked her eyebrow. "You want to go again?"
"No!"
Loud laughter burst from her, her body shaking and her face buried against his neck. It took her a few moments to calm down and when she did, she pulled her wand from beneath the pillow and cast a series of spells over them, he wasn't sure what but one he recognised as her Pregnancy Charm, something she'd cast three times during the last twelve hours, just to be thorough, and another left him feeling cooler and a little cleaner but a shower was still in order. He was contemplating taking a bath, maybe Hermione had something in her magic purse that would help ease his aching body which he could dump in the water with him.
"Face it, Honey, I've broken you," she placed her wand back under the pillow and then tapped him on the nose with her index finger, smiling down at him.
"Seriously? How are you so...Alive?" She snorted. "We've been together a while now and I've never seen you this way before. Was there something in that potion you didn't tell me about?"
"No," she shook her head. "There are Lust Potions, pretty self-explanatory, and there are some potions that help with virility for a short while, which you most certainly didn't need," she spoke, her eyes flashing hungrily and he found himself preening under her praise. "But no, it was only an Invigoration Draught, just a short term energy boost. But, I'm going to tell you something and I don't want you freaking out."
He couldn't decide whether to frown or arch an eyebrow and it resulted in a strange mix of the two, his gaze locked with hers.
"Witches are slightly different from muggle females."
"Yeah, one has magic, the other doesn't," he stated the obvious.
She rolled her eyes. "No, we're different physically."
His eyes deliberately trailed her body, being glad she'd covered herself with the blanket so he didn't get distracted but he knew her body well enough to imagine every freckle, mark and scar in the right place.
"Not like that," she lightly slapped at his chest. "You're not going to get all weird or embarrassed about this are you?"
"About?"
"Menstrual cycles,"
His eyebrow arched. "No, why?"
"Good, so, you know that most women menstruate once a month and they have certain points in their cycle they are most fertile?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, witches do, too, only we're different. I don't know why, I haven't looked much into it if I'm honest, but, when a witch either becomes sexually active or reaches the age of maturity, seventeen, whichever comes first, she goes through a... Well, let's just say heat."
"Heat? As in cats and dogs?" Both eyebrows rose high on his forehead in surprise.
"Sort of," she nodded. "It happens once a year, obviously it occurs at different times for each witch. I reckon it has something to do with repopulation. Our community is much smaller than yours, we're outnumbered significantly so I can only assume it's a natural evolution to aid in reproduction. If a witch's in heat for an entire month, she's..."
"Randy as hell?" He guessed.
"Right in one," she nodded. "Which is why I've been..."
"A sex demon?" He supplied.
She snorted and slapped at his chest but nodded, agreeing with him. "Yes. December's the month I'm in 'heat' and I'm most fertile. That's why I've been so frustrated, it's why I'm not as tired as you despite ingesting an Invigoration Draught, it's why I've been so demanding of you and it's why I've been sure to cast the Pregnancy Charm multiple times over the last twelve hours," she shrugged.
"So, you being so insatiable lasts the entire month?"
"Usually," she nodded, snorting at the slightly worried expression that crossed his face. "But, given our recent shag-fest, I reckon I'll be good for a week, possibly two, at which, I'll be frustrated again. If your dad wasn't here and we were having sex like we used to without worry of someone walking in on us, I'd be fine. You probably wouldn't notice a difference in me."
"So, I have a year to build up my endurance before this happens again next December?"
"You still want to be with me in a year's time? That'll be almost two years, Dean."
"Of course I do," his brow furrowed. "I told you I wanted us to be long term and I meant it."
He groaned in pain when she beamed a smile and a shriek fell from her lips as she threw herself towards him, hugging him tightly.
"Merlin, you don't stop surprising me."
"Glad to keep you on your toes."
A knock on the conjoined door sounded and it was followed by a shout before it was opened and his father stepped inside, Hermione barely managing to settle back down beside him and cover herself with the blanket.
"Dad! Are you kidding me!" Dean's voice rose and he bit back a groan when he pushed himself up onto his elbows. His gaze briefly darted to Hermione, seeing her rolling her eyes and running a hand through her hair.
Well, that was unexpected. It seemed he'd... what did she call it? Shagging? Well, he'd shagged the fight right out of her. He'd never seen her so mellow.
"What? I knocked and shouted," he said innocently. Dean levelled him with an annoyed glance and Hermione sighed. "Sammy went to get breakfast, he caught chatter of there being another victim whilst he was out. I'm going to head out and meet him but I need the car keys."
Dean glared but tipped his head towards the table where the keys sat on the surface.
"Good morning, Sunshine," his father said to Hermione as he crossed to collect the keys. "How you feeling?"
"Great, until you ruined my morning."
"Charming," he snorted. "And to think, I sacrificed..."
"You sacrificed nothing, get out," Hermione scowled.
He turned his eyes to Dean. "I had thought, given the clothing on the ground and the smell in the room, you'd taken care of her. I guess not."
"Dad!"
"Arsehole!"
His father ducked out of the room, barely dodging the TV remote Hermione threw at him.
"Keep your phone on you in case we need backup!" He called after shutting the door behind him. "And Sam's fed the cats, they're asleep in here!"
They waited until they heard another door close and they saw the disturbance of the light streaming into the room as someone walked past the window before they turned to look at each other.
"Be glad I'm naked, otherwise I would've climbed out of bed, grabbed the knife from the table and stabbed him with it."
"Trust me, I would've held him down," he grumbled.
A snort of amusement fell from her and he looked at her in surprise.
"I think this is something we're going to have to get used to. Until we've found this bloody demon and killed him, we're stuck with him."
"How'd he get in?"
"The Locking Charm isn't permanent. If I'm honest, I only thought about recasting the Silencing Charm before I woke you, I never thought to re-ward the door. But, now that he's gone..." She reached for her wand once more and with a series of flicks and swishes, the room righted itself, clothing folded neatly and settled on a chair, Sam's bed made itself up and the smell in the room vanished. "I'll go run us a bath..."
"God, no," he groaned.
"Relax," she snorted. "I'll keep my hands to myself, but we both need a bit of healing and the hot water as well as the potions I plan on using will help with that."
She climbed from the bed, completely naked and without a care in the world as she crossed to the bathroom and Dean heard the sound of running water. Barely minutes later, Hermione called out to him and he groaned at the thought of leaving the bed but knew he had to.
It took him longer to cross to the bathroom than he'd like to admit and he felt as though he had cramp in every muscle in his body, but the moment he stepped into the bathroom, a sigh slipped from his lips and he felt his body relaxing as the steam from the hot water surrounded him, as well as the smells of the potions she'd put in the bath. He saw no point in asking what she'd used and instead climbed straight into the bath, hissing against the hot temperature. One thing about Hermione, she liked her baths so hot it'd blister her skin if she weren't careful.
Laying back against the bath, he paid her no mind as she bustled about the bathroom, casting spells over the towels she'd set out, digging through her magical purse and putting more potions into the water and then quickly brushing her teeth. As the daughter of dentists, she was diligent in tooth brushing. Dean had yet to see her miss a night even once by accident. It didn't matter if she were exhausted and could barely walk or keep her eyes open, she always found her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth, even in she fell asleep in her clothes and didn't change or remove them.
"Move over,"
"No," he groaned.
"Yes, lean forward. I'm tiny compared to you; I don't take up a lot of space. Move it or lost it."
Torn between snorting and grumbling, he remained silent as he shuffled forward enough to give her space to settle behind him. He couldn't have her leaning against him, not now. She was quick to climb into the bath and submerge beneath the hot water, barely making a sound at the temperature, her skin pinking immediately.
"Alright, lean back."
Leaning back, he made himself comfortable, already feeling the potions in the water helping to ease the ache in his body and when Hermione brought her hands up to his shoulders, massaging away the aches and knots, at first it hurt until he found himself slumping against her, relaxing so much, he fell asleep.
~000~000~000~
Three days later...
"It's my turn," Hermione said, climbing from the Impala after Crookshanks jumped from her lap.
"Try to..."
"I know," she interrupted, not allowing him to finish as she walked towards the reception area.
To keep himself busy, Dean climbed from the car and moved to the trunk, removing each of their duffle bags and handing them to the correct owner.
"Two rooms, unfortunately, they're conjoined and the last ones available," Hermione said as she approached, an unpleased scowl on her face, one he knew he mimicked.
It was only one night, he reminded himself. They were stopping for some sleep and rest before they continued on their journey to their next destination the following day.
Dean didn't even try to scold Hermione when she walked past his father and slapped him upside the head. They'd both seen the smirk and known the words on the tip of his tongue. His father took far too much amusement in winding Hermione up, he'd have to have a talk with him at some point.
"Follow me, Winchesters," she said, not sparing them a second glance as she took the lead. She'd already reached the rooms before they were halfway across the parking lot.
The moment she stepped inside and disappeared from view, a scream sounded from and as fear and worry spiked through him, Dean didn't stop to wait for Sam or his father, or heed their words as he dropped his duffle bag to the ground, pulled his gun in broad daylight and darted to the room, his boots clanging against the metal staircase.
He'd almost kicked the door open in his haste to get to Hermione and the moment he stepped into the room, his eyes surveying his surroundings for threats, his entire body sagged in relief. Feeling a presence behind him, he knew Sam and his father had arrived and peering over his shoulder, he saw their surprised expressions. Dean wasn't all that surprised, if he were honest, and he was torn between laughing and scolding Hermione for putting the fear of God in him.
Looking past the two double beds, round table and chairs, closet and TV, there was a small kitchenette in the corner of the room and stood, leaning over the old-looking oven, practically hugging it as she cried, was Hermione.
"Shit! You scared the hell out of me!" Dean breathed out, stuffing his gun back into the waistband of his jeans.
"Dean, look! We have an oven! An actual oven!" She exclaimed, a tear falling down her cheek and he heard Sam's snort from behind him. He watched as she fiddled with the knobs and buttons and lit the stove, an excited cry slipping from her lips. "God! It works! It's an oven that works! It's an oven in a motel room that works! I love this place!"
She darted across the room and over to him, pulling him into a tight hug that squeezed the oxygen from his lungs and he patted her back as she cried into his chest, sending a glare over his shoulder at his amused brother and father. Crying from nightmares he could deal with. Crying from anger he could deal with. Sadness, not an issue. But this, he had no idea what to do.
She pulled back from him, wiping at her eyes. "God, Dean, we can have a home-cooked meal. No fast food or diners. A proper home-cooked meal. The Lord does have mercy. We're going shopping, right now! We need groceries! I'm making a roast for dinner."
"A roast?" Sam spoke up from behind him.
"Yes, a roast, will all the trimmings. What should we have? Pork? Beef? Lamb? Chicken? Turkey? No, not turkey, I'm not keen on it. Chicken? Beef? No, it's too common. Lamb it is. Please let me find a decent joint of lamb," she begged.
"A roast? For four people?" Sam repeated.
"Yes," Hermione's brow furrowed. "I can't remember the last time I had a proper roast. It's tradition in England. Most families have a Sunday roast every week, no matter how many attend. I know my family did and there were only three of us. God, we have to have Yorkshire puddings. I need flour and eggs and milk and... Oh, but the oven's so small and the meat will take hours to cook, but... It'll be worth the wait and the effort. We should leave now. Let's go,"
She grabbed Dean's hand and dragged him out of the motel room, looking over his shoulder he saw Sam's and his father's amused expression.
"With a reaction like that... You think it's that time of the month?" His father asked Sam.
Dean's eyes widened slightly, being glad Hermione couldn't reach the knife stashed up his sleeve and that they were in public, otherwise, she'd demonstrate how good her aim was and use his father as a target.
"I heard that, Arsehole!" Hermione called over her shoulder lightly, halting in her steps before she reached the staircase. It seemed she was in such a good mood from finding an oven, of all things, in her room, that not even his father's comments could anger her. "And for that comment, not only have you lost your dessert privileges. When it is my time of the month, you can be the one to go to the shop and buy me my tampons."
His father shrugged casually and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Not like I haven't done it before."
"For your son's girlfriend?" She arched her eyebrow, pleased with herself when Sam snorted. "That's what I thought. Not only is it weird, but I plan on making that trip a living hell for you. I'm talking tampons, ice-cream, chocolate, painkillers, food, the whole shebang and you're paying for it. All of it."
Dean sighed; one of these days, he'd get through the day without an argument between his father and Hermione or his father and Sam.
~000~000~000~
Three days later...
"We need to find him," Dean grumbled, dropping the newspaper on to the table and leaning back in his chair.
He sat in his father's room with him and Sam whilst Hermione was sleeping in the room next to them. She wasn't very well. It wasn't a sickness bug or food poisoning, they weren't quite sure what it was, to be honest, but she hadn't been well all day. She'd had a migraine so bad she complained of blurry vision and despite taking painkillers and a magical painkiller on the sly without his father seeing, it hadn't helped much and she'd slept during most of the journey in the back seat of the car with Dean beside her and the three cats surrounding her, trying to offer comfort.
They'd gotten lucky that day. They'd only been in town a matter of hours and whilst Hermione stayed in bed, he, Sam and his father had done some investigating into the case they picked up, accidentally stumbling upon the shape-shifter which they'd easily managed between them. Now, they were gathered, discussing the demon-killing gun they had in their possession and where they'd find the one they were looking for.
"I know, Dean," his father sent him an annoyed glare.
"And you've reached out to everyone?" Sam questioned.
"Yes,"
"Everyone?" He repeated.
"Yes," his father snapped, rubbing at his temples with his fingers. "Every hunter, even the ones that refuse to speak to me."
"Maybe we should ask Bobby, he could put the word out," Sam suggested.
"Did that last week," Dean reminded him. "No one's got back to him. Wherever the hell he is, he's laying low."
"He's up to something, I know he is," his father said, his eyes locked on the Colt that sat on the surface of the table.
"Of course he is, he didn't kill Jess for nothing," Sam lost his temper and Dean eyed them both as they glared at one another.
"Stop it, I don't have the energy to be the mediator today," Dean interrupted their staring match, their glares moving to him. "Maybe we should look over past cases, or search for more incidents regarding arson deaths. There might be a pattern, a way to track him."
"Tried it, didn't work," his father sighed.
"Yeah, but you didn't have me, Sam or Hermione. Research is their forte, it's what they do."
"She's got a wicked right hook on her, too," Sam's mouth twitched, his eyes darting to their father's nose and he reached out, slapping Sam upside the head, sending him a look of warning. Dean sighed and rolled his eyes.
"We need to figure this out. The longer it takes, the longer he's out there and able to hurt others. The longer he's free."
"You seem pretty desperate to get rid of me," his father commented.
"It's not that, Dad," Dean grumbled, shifting in his chair and folding his arms over his chest. "This has been going on for twenty-two years. It's time we finished this once and for all. And you're my dad, I do like us all being together again, a family, but not all the time. It's not the same anymore, I've got Hermione now and I need to think about her. You deliberately aggravate her."
"It's really fun," he smirked.
"You need to stop. I thought you would've when she threw that knife at you last week; clearly, you've got a screw loose. Sooner or later, she'll snap and you haven't seen what she's capable of. There's a reason we deliberately keep her away from you," he said, seeing Sam's eyes widen in surprise, his gaze darting between him and their father. Dean almost rolled his eyes, as if he'd reveal Hermione's secret. "She tolerates you the best she can but if we leave the two of you alone for too long, I honestly think she'll do more damage than a split lip and a bloody nose."
"She's a feisty little thing," his father nodded in agreement.
"Why do you annoy her so much? Do you hate her, is that it?" Dean frowned.
His father blinked slowly. "Why would you think I hate her?"
Dean shared a look with Sam, both of them wondering if their father did have a screw loose.
"I annoy her 'cause it's fun, not 'cause I hate her. I've told you before that I like her."
"I hope so," Dean eyed him cautiously.
"Why's that matter anyway?" He arched an eyebrow.
"She's my girlfriend, my first priority is making sure she's happy and safe."
"There's more to it than that, I know there is. I know you better than anyone," he tipped his head to the side thoughtfully.
"Not better than Hermione, I've changed a lot since I met her."
His father opened his mouth to reply, only the lights suddenly flickered and three pairs of eyes darted upwards before looking to one another.
"Not that suspicious," Sam said.
Dean was going to nod in agreement; it could've just been a dodgy light bulb, only it happened again.
"Still, it's likely nothing," Sam said, but his gaze was focused on the light above.
It happened again, this time the room plunging into darkness for three seconds exactly before the light came back on.
All three of them stood from their chairs, each pulling their handguns and his father reaching for the Colt. Dean moved to the window, hiding from sight as he peeked out, his eyes searching any hostile persons or potential threats. The one most likely would be a demon, word would likely have gotten out amongst them that they were searching for one in particular. They had to be more careful than ever.
"There's no one out there," Dean said.
The room plunged into darkness once more, lasting five seconds before the light flickered back on.
They silently looked to one another, making a plan of action. And then a blood-curdling scream sounded from the room to the right. His and Hermione's room.
He didn't wait for anyone as he dashed out of the door and flung the other one open, his gun held out before him in preparation to fire, to defend and protect Hermione, his eyes did a quick scan of the room seeing nothing but three anxiously pacing cats and Hermione thrashing about in the centre of the bed.
"No! It's a fake! We didn't steal it, please don't! Stop!" She shrieked, she screamed, she cried.
"Fuck!" Dean cursed, darting over to the bed and climbing on, wrestling Hermione's arms down by her sides and pinning her against him, limiting her movement.
"Stop! No!"
"It's okay, Baby, she's gone, you're safe," Dean muttered into her ear, the words of Hey Jude soon slipping past his lips, alternating between muttering them and humming the tune, his fingers slipping beneath her t-shirt and trailing over the skin of her stomach. He used every trick he'd learned to calm her and slowly she settled, her screams dying down into cries and whimpers.
Darting his gaze to the door, he saw Sam's saddened expression and his father's horrified one. This was something Hermione never wanted either of them to see. It was too personal.
"Sammy, get him out of here," he instructed, his voice gravelly and his throat burning. He hated seeing her so frightened, so troubled.
He hated that he couldn't protect her from her nightmares, her memories. This was one of the worst he'd seen yet and he didn't know why. Did it have something to do with her being ill? Was this particular time of the year traumatic during the war? Was it a one off occurrence? He didn't know but he'd have to speak with Hermione and see if she knew.
His father made to speak, whether it was about what he'd witnessed or the flashing lights, something Dean now knew had been Hermione's doing, he didn't have the chance to voice it as Sam grabbed his arm and pulled him from the room, sharing a nod with him that they'd speak later and he closed the door.
Dean released a sigh and picked up his mutterings and humming until Hermione settled, he was sure her sleep wasn't without bad memories but she'd calmed.
He wasn't sure what time it was but he'd dozed off at some point and he startled awake when there was a knock on the door and Sam stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He grabbed a chair from the table and dragged it over to the bed, taking a seat beside it, his worried gaze darting between him and Hermione's sleeping form, not missing the furrow in her brow.
"Dad's gone for a walk," he answered his unasked question. "We can talk. So, what the hell was that? Did she...with the lights?"
Dean sighed and nodded, shifting Hermione in his arms slightly. "I think so. I've seen her set curtains on fire and smash a vase, this was a first but we both know magic and electricity don't mix."
"This was close, Dean. Really close. I think he suspects something."
"He does," Dean muttered and Sam's eyes widened. "I didn't tell you 'cause I didn't want you to worry, but when the kids visited and we took them out, dad asked Hermione some weird questions about magic and being in the military."
"Fuck!" Sam cursed, his worried gaze darting to Hermione and then back to him.
"She headed him off as best she could, telling the truth without revealing too much, but after tonight, we'll have to keep a close eye on him. She can never be left alone with him, not even for five minutes."
"Her safety's our number one priority," he nodded in agreement. "But, Dean, say dad did find out. What would you do? What if he harmed her? I've seen how protective you are of her when she's targeted by the supernatural? What if it's dad that hurts her?"
Dean took a deep breath, his eyes darting down to Hermione's face.
"If that's the case, I'd never forgive him. If he can't accept her, if I'm forced to choose between them, I'd choose her. Every time." Dean knew from the silence that he'd surprised Sam.
"Hell," he muttered, giving his head a shake. Hermione was right. Sam did need a haircut. "She really means a lot to you, doesn't she?"
"Do you think I'd still be with her after all this time if she didn't? That I'd willingly choose her over dad even if it meant losing him?"
Sam tipped his head, a knowing look entering his eyes as he spoke his next words. "You gunna marry her?"
Dean felt his stomach knot and his mind go fuzzy.
"I don't know," he answered. "Regardless, we don't need to marry to be together."
Sam hummed thoughtfully but didn't reply.
The door suddenly burst open, almost slamming against the wall and his father stepped in.
"Dad!" Dean hissed, throwing him a murderous glare when he felt Hermione shift in his arms and he wasn't the only one, Crookshanks startled awake and levelled him with a cold narrowing of the eyes.
His father didn't reply as he closed the door behind him and the crossed over to the bed, standing on the opposite side of where Sam perched on the chair, folding his arms over his chest and spearing them with a narrowed gazed of his own. He and Sam glanced at one another and then back to him.
"What the hell happened?" He demanded, thankfully, his voice not too loud so Hermione woke.
"None of your business," Dean replied, whilst Sam answered, "Dodgy light bulb, they sent someone over to change it after you left. Shouldn't have any more problems now."
He looked to Sam, his gaze cautious and disbelieving before his eyes moved to Hermione's sleeping form and then to him.
"What happened?" He repeated.
"None of your business, that's between Hermione and me," Dean answered.
"Like hell it is! No one has a reaction that like over nothing," he whispered-shouted.
Crookshanks stood from his place curled up at the end of the bed with Sadie and Domino and padded over to Hermione, settling himself half on the mattress and half on Hermione's stomach, almost as if he were protecting her and sending his father a warning, and his head rested in such a way that he watched his father distrustfully. Dean loved the damn cat.
"Just tell him, Dean," Sam muttered, pushing his hand through his hair.
"No," he argued.
"Fine, I'll tell him, at least she won't be mad at me for long," he sighed.
"Well, I'm waiting?" Their father said impatiently.
"I told you before, she has nightmares and had a fucked up childhood. What you saw was a bad one."
His gaze darted to Dean and he released a slow breath.
"You know she was a soldier, what you don't know is, during her time serving her country, she and some of her war buddies were captured by the enemy side." His father's eyes widened slightly, understanding the implication of his words. "They tortured her for hours before she was rescued. She doesn't like to tell people. She doesn't want their pity or apologies. She survived and she deals with the consequences the best she can."
Dean honestly didn't know how to react when he saw his father's expression soften slightly, his gaze raking over Hermione's slumbering form slowly, as if searching for something.
"You know," he muttered, "I've caught sight of a few scars on her. I'd just assumed they were from hunting."
"Some are, the majority are from battle," Dean answered, "And if she finds out you know what happened to her, she'll kick all of our asses."
His father nodded. "I won't say anything. I guess that's why she retired after only two years of service. She mentioned PTSD before, too."
"Yeah," he and Sam agreed, sharing a look. "I'll back off for a few days."
"She'll get suspicious," Sam pointed out. "Just maybe dial it down a little instead."
Their father nodded before he glanced at Hermione once more and then headed for the door.
"That was weird, right?" Sam asked, once the door was closed and his father had gone.
"Very,"
~000~000~000~
Two days later...
"I think this is my favourite," Dean mused. "You should buy this one next time."
"Your favourite, really? Why?" She asked, her hand running through his hair as she watched TV and he laid across the bed in such a way that his head was propped against her stomach whilst Sadie was sprawled across his, happily purring as he ran his hands through her fur.
"It smells like apples," he shrugged. And God, did he love the smell of apples. It reminded him of her. "And it's green, not pink. Like the others you've bought."
"Sammy, what'd you think?" Hermione asked, looking to her left where Sam was sprawled on the second bed, his eyes closed and his hands running through the fur of Domino and Crookshanks, one laid across his stomach, the other laid beside him.
"Hmmm, not bad, but I like the coconut one better," he answered.
Dean rolled his eyes. "That one freaks me out; you look like a porcelain doll when it's dried."
Both Hermione and Sam snorted in amusement.
"Well, I guess I'm buying both next time," she said.
"Grab some clay masks, too, we haven't done one in a while," Sam commented. "And we're almost out of that charcoal face scrub, too, so you should probably get some more of that."
Dean hummed in agreement, a sigh slipping from his lips when Hermione's nails lightly scraped at his scalp as they ran through his hair.
"Yeah, and I used the last of the face cleanser this morning," Dean added.
"Make me a list, boys," she rolled her eyes, "And if we have time before we leave tomorrow, I'll head out and do a bit of shopping."
The door opened and none of them bothered to look up, knowing who it was already. His father had the key and if he were anyone but himself, he wouldn't have gotten past the salt, demon trap or the cats.
"What the..." He trailed off.
They each looked to him, seeing his wide eyes and parted mouth, the bag of food dangling from only one finger as he'd almost dropped it in his surprise.
Yes, he, Hermione and Sam were all relaxing after a stressful day of hunting, and yes, they were all currently sporting a green face mask whilst Sam had his customary cucumber slices slotted over his eyes, and Dean couldn't find it in himself to care or be embarrassed as his father stood before them. Not only did it make Hermione happy that he was willing to do this with her, but he was secure enough in his masculinity that he could now admit to enjoying a pamper session every once in a while.
"You were gone a while? What did you decide on?" Hermione asked.
His father's gaze darted between each of them and then settled on Hermione. "You've broken my sons," he muttered, looking horrified.
"Don't be ridiculous," she rolled her eyes before she took a deep inhale through her nose. "I smell something spicy, what, Indian? Curry? I love Indian. You remembered the naan bread, right? I can't have a curry without naan bread."
Dean snorted in amusement, closing his eyes and laying his head back against Hermione's stomach.
"You've broken them," he muttered.
"Why don't you join us? I'm sure you'd like it if you gave it a try. I have a spare face mask in the bathroom." His father didn't reply, he was speechless. "Suit yourself," she shrugged. "Boys, time to wash this off."
"Five more minutes, Hermione," Sam sighed.
"No, we were supposed to wash it off ten minutes ago, you've already had your extra time. We need to wash it off, besides, food's here."
"I'm going for a walk," his father mumbled, setting the food on the table and then leaving out the room once more.
"I think I broke your dad," Hermione commented as the door shut behind him.
~000~000~000~
When his father next stepped into the room, all three of them had already eaten their dinner, and it was to the sight of Sam laying beside Hermione whilst he watched TV and she held his right hand in her left, her free hand holding both a nail file and a pair of nail clippers as she cut the nail on his index finger and then filed and reshaped it. Dean lay across the foot of the bed, propping himself up on his elbow, two bottles of nail polish held in his grasp as he looked to Hermione questioningly.
"What do you think, Sammy? Candy-apple red or classic red?" Hermione asked, not taking her attention away from tending to his middle finger.
Sam darted a glance to Dean's hand. "Candy-apple's got a bit of sparkle to it, I'd say that for your fingernails and classic for your toes," he answered.
"Good choice," she nodded in agreement.
Silently, Dean set one aside before opening the classic red nail polish and then leaning closer to Hermione's feet which were propped up by a pillow, starting with the big toe on her right foot.
"Oh My God," his father muttered, Dean briefly glancing towards him and seeing him scrubbing his hands over his face, as if not believing what he was seeing.
"Jon, glad to see you made it back. I was getting worried," Hermione said, not taking her attention from Sam's little finger. "I hope you grabbed something to eat during your walk, I'm sad to say, eating cold curry isn't very nice and I'm not going to lie, I was still hungry to I ate yours, too," she informed him, both him and Sam snorting at her.
"What've you done to my boys?" He whispered in horror.
"Nothing," she rolled her eyes. "Do you want to join us? You're looking a little stressed. A good pamper session can do wonders for stress. No? Very well, but you don't know what you're missing. When was the last time you had sex?"
His father made a surprised choking sound and he and Sam shared an amused look, barely holding in their sniggers.
"A good looking chap like you, I'm sure you could have any woman you wanted falling at your feet. Just make sure to check their ID, wouldn't wanna shag a minor, would you? God, think of the drama," she shivered. "I'll tell you what, you find yourself a pretty woman and bring her back to your room, and I'll take the boys out for a beer to give you some privacy, you know, thin walls and all that? Tonight I'll be your fairy Godmother, Papa Winchester, you shall get laid tonight!" Hermione sang.
The moment the door slammed shut, he and Sam burst out laughing, Sam taking his hand from Hermione and holding his ribs whilst Dean had to put the lid back on the nail polish to stop him from getting it everywhere.
"Enjoying yourself?" Dean asked her.
"Immensely," she smiled, pleased with herself.
"God that was the best thing ever!" Sam laughed, wiping away a fallen tear of laughter and taking a deep breath. "I love you."
"Hey, back off, get your own witch," Dean called, reaching over to hit the bottom of Sam's sock-clad foot with the TV remote. "Please tell me you're not done."
"Of course not," she smiled brightly. "You mad at me?"
"Baby, I've never been prouder," he grinned.
~000~000~000~
"You need a haircut."
"I don't need a haircut," his father argued.
"Yes, you do, I can see the resemblance between you and Sam. I see he got that loo brush hair from you."
"I don't have to take this abuse from you," his father said, storming out of the room for the fifth time that night.
~000~000~000~
"Face mask, Jon?"
"No,"
"You look like you need it."
"Hell will freeze over before I ever agree to a pampering session," he said, striding for the door.
"You going for a walk again? Do me a favour? Grab me something from the vending machine, I'm starving!"
~000~000~000~
"I've never felt more relaxed," his father sighed.
Dean and Sam shared an amused look, both sprawled on the second bed in the room, one watching TV, the other reading a magical textbook disguised to look like an American History book.
"I told you, you should listen to me more often. I know what I'm doing. Left hand now."
He lifted his left hand and exchanged it for his right, Hermione took it and she set to work on his thumb first. He reached up and repositioned the slice of cucumber over his right eye, shifting slightly to get more comfortable on the bed where he lay beside Hermione who was sat, propped up by pillows, the smell of apples surrounding him as his face was covered by the green mask.
"What do you think? You like it?"
"Hmm, but I think I'd prefer something else. I'm not fond of the green colouring."
"Well, Sammy likes the coconut one, it's white. But then there's honey, almond, tea tree and mint, charcoal clay, strawberry, that one's pink and I think it'd suit you lovely. I said I'd go shopping tomorrow before we leave and stock up."
"Okay, get one of each," he replied, sounding sleepy and Sam couldn't hold in his snort.
"You've broken him," Sam mouthed and Hermione smiled proudly, even as she clipped and filed his nails.
"Well, this will do wonders for your skin. Your chances of finding a willing woman will only double. So, Jon, are you having sex tonight?"
Dean and Sam burst into sniggers.
~000~000~000~
Two days later...
"It's not mine," said Sam from the back seat.
"Not mine," his father said from beside Sam.
"Not mine either, must yours, Baby," Dean said.
Hermione frowned before she lifted her jacket from the floor of the car and dug through her pockets, pulling out the ringing device.
"Hello?" She answered. "Harry? What's wrong?... Oh, thank God for that, you had me worried for a minute... What? Really? That's brilliant... Give them my love... I don't know yet... I know I'm cutting it close but there's nothing I can do about it... That's fine... Hey, Sweetie... I don't know, we're a little busy working right now... Sure..."
Dean darted his eyes to Hermione when she held out the phone towards him. Raising an eyebrow, he took it from her.
"Someone wants to speak with you," she said.
Curiously, he brought the phone up to her ear, making sure to keep his eyes on the road.
"Hello?"
"Uncle Dean?"
Dean felt a smile tug at his mouth, recognising the voice on the other end.
"It's me, what's up, Buddy?"
"Mummy's tryna get Albus ready for bed but he keeps running off," he said and Dean chuckled. "And she's mad as daddy 'coz he's won't help her. He's hiding in the bathroom." Dean's laugh grew louder and he shook his head, imaging the happenings at the Potter house at that very moment. "Daddy said I could talk to you before I go to bed. It's Christmas soon, are you coming to see us?"
Dean's eyes darted to Hermione and then to the rear-view mirror, seeing his brother and father in the back seat, one pretending not to listen in, the other blatantly doing it.
"I don't know yet, Bud, we're very busy hunting, and we're looking for a bad man that's hurt a lot of people."
"Okay," he muttered sadly. "But I have a present for you. And Albus misses you, and mummy wants to see you. She thinks you're pretty, she tells daddy all the time."
Hermione snorted from beside him, obviously being able to hear part of the conversation giving how close she was to him and Dean felt his mouth twitch in amusement.
"Tell your mom I think she's very pretty, too," he replied, his mouth twitching into a smile when Hermione rolled her eyes and then whacked him in the arm with the back of her hand. "If we're not busy, we'll try to come and see you."
"You promise?"
"I promise. Now, I better go, I'm driving and I know it's your bedtime. Be good for your mom."
"I will, bye Uncle Dean."
"See ya later, Bud," he said, waiting for the line to go dead before he snapped the phone shut and handed the phone back to Hermione.
"What was that about?" His father asked.
"None of your business," he replied.
"You know, he couldn't get me off the phone fast enough, all he wanted was to speak to his favourite Uncle Dean," she said amused.
"It's not my fault the kids love me," he shrugged.
"Well, it seems I'm about to become an Aunt again."
"What?" Both he and Sam said together.
"That's what Harry called to tell me, Angie's pregnant, twelve weeks."
"Seriously?" Sam raised his eyebrow, already knowing how many nieces and nephews she had.
"Yes, Weasley genes," she shrugged, her gaze moving to Dean. "So, what should we do?" She asked, looking at him pointedly.
His gaze darted between his father, brother and then Hermione. "We'll talk about it later."
~000~000~000~
Two days later...
"Shit!"
"There's too many of them!"
"Hermione!"
"Boys! Where are you!"
Dean was furious! He'd told his father to wait for Hermione to get back, he'd told him it was too risky to go in without checking their surroundings, but did he listen, of course he fucking didn't. As a result, they'd walked right into a nest of vampires. And not just any nest, but a huge-ass one. Dean had never seen so many vampires in one place. They outnumbered them almost three to one despite there being four of them. Dean hoped that Hermione was able to use her magic to speed up the task of killing them, dropping their numbers to something more manageable and without his father seeing, too, because that would not be good right now.
He couldn't find her. He hadn't seen her since he and Sam had rushed in after his father, trying to stop him from doing something stupid but it was too late. He knew she was there, he'd heard her cursing in another language the moment she stepped into the fight, and he knew his father would be getting an earful from her if they made it out alive, likely a broken nose, too.
He did his best to fight off the vampires that had chosen him as their next meal whilst also searching for Hermione. When in a crisis such as this, she was the one person he wanted by his side.
He'd just taken the head off a vampire, only angering the two that stood before him and he climbed over a crate and dropped down onto the other side, right where Sam was cornered by three vampires.
"I can't find, Hermione," he said, his eyes darting between the vampires in front of them, and then he spun back to back with Sam when the two he'd been fighting appeared behind them.
"She's here somewhere, I heard her scream of outrage," Sam said, brandishing his machete threateningly.
"We're surrounded," Dean grumbled.
"Obviously, how many of them is there? I've already killed two."
"Me too," Dean replied. "And I've seen at least four of them dead, there must be more of them somewhere else and they called for backup."
"That's something we could use right now."
"Boys! Duck!" They'd recognise that voice anywhere and they were both quick to do as told, beams of light flying over their heads, slamming straight into the two vampires behind them and taking down one in front of them. "Run! Find Jon, I'll take care of these."
They couldn't see where she was so she'd likely hidden herself with her magic and though Dean didn't want to leave her with five furious vampires, three of them she'd blasted with her magic, he grabbed Sam by his jacket and pulled him up before darting through the gap she'd cleared for them.
As they ran through the maze that was the abandoned warehouse, an explosion sounded behind them. Dean didn't dare look back, knowing if he did, he wouldn't be able to resist running back to Hermione's side.
When they finally found their father, he had a few cuts on cheek, forehead and chin, and he, himself, had a few cuts and bruises forming, as did Sam. None of them were getting out uninjured. He was surrounded and they tried to fight their way to him, only, somehow, they ended up backed up against the wall and surrounded, too, whilst their father had the same issue on the other side of the room. There was too many of them to make it out alive.
Out of nowhere, Hermione appeared and she fought her way through to his father, standing beside him. From across the room, he saw her gaze lock with his and even at the distance separating them, he could see the intention in her eyes. He felt himself paling and his stomach twisted painfully.
"Hermione, don't do it!" He called.
"I have to! We have no choice if we want to get out of this alive!" She called.
Sam, suddenly understanding what was going to happen, silently swore.
"Hermione, he's right! You can't do it!"
"I have no choice!" She repeated. "We'll deal with the consequences later!"
"What the hell are arguing about! We have other things to worry about!" His father yelled, darting his eyes between them and then moving back to the vampires who were slowly, teasingly, drawing closer, caging them in.
"Hermione, don't! Please! I can't lose you!" He found himself begging. Begging!
"I'm sorry, Dean, I need you alive. This is the only way. Do it!"
"No!"
"Dean, do it! Now!"
"NO!" He refused.
"Sammy! Grab his necklace and call Portus!"
"Why!"
"Do it now! And don't let go!"
Sam's eyes barely glanced at her before his hand darted up to the necklace that had fallen out from beneath Dean's shirt and before Dean could wrestle it free from his grasp, Sam called out, "Portus!"
The last thing he saw before being swept up in a tornado, was the advancing vampires, Hermione's worried gaze as she pulled her wand and blasted the vampires with beams of light, and his father's surprised and furious expression.
And then he was gone.