Dean Winchester was completely trapped in a whirlwind of chaos. For days, you had consumed his thoughts, and worry gnawed at him relentlessly. You, a Demon—a being he’s trained to hunt and loathe. Yet, somehow, you stood out as the most genuinely kind Demon he had ever encountered. You had gone above and beyond for him, more than anyone else ever could. You even turned your back on your own kind just to lend a hand to him, his brother, and Castiel. And now, you were facing the dire repercussions of your choices, caught in the crossfire of aiding Hunters and Angels in the depths of Hell.

Usually, all it took was a fleeting thought of you for you to materialise by his side—something that happened constantly. But now, you were gone, as if you were merely a phantom conjured by his imagination. That was until Castiel arrived, cradling you in his arms, looking as though a Hellhound had torn into you. The Angel had pulled you from the merciless torment you were enduring in Hell, and though Dean struggled to voice it, his heart swelled with gratitude that he would carry forever.

Now, nestled in the quiet sanctuary of a motel room, Castiel worked diligently to mend your wounds, his hands glowing with ethereal light. Meanwhile, Dean’s fingers intertwined with yours, his emerald eyes locked onto your unconscious face, filled with a mix of hope and concern that spoke volumes of his devotion.