It seems he had an accident with a bottle of Nair (ooh lala, does that mean my minou is smooth under all that leather?) and now I am the proud owner of a hairless Chat! I was trying not to laugh
but he looked SO ridiculous- like One-Punch Man cosplaying
Author’s Note: I did this for meeting Mary as one of the boys’ girlfriend, but I’ve always had this different version in the back of my mind, so here we are.
You’re a Winchester, no doubt about that, but your Dean and Sam’s half sibling. Your mom wasn’t a hunter or knew anything about the supernatural, she was a waitress at a roadside diner that John chatted up a few times he came into that town and well, here you are.
You grew up with him as your dad, but you hardly saw him. You lived with your mom and stepdad most of your life, until Sam and Dean found you and brought you into their hunter life. Now, you’ve heard stories of Mary and how she died and how your dad set out to go find the thing that killed her. You’ve seen a few pictures of her and you can tell that’s where Dean gets his blond hair and green eyes.
It was always a bit weird to hear your older brothers talk about their dead mom and how she was basically the reason you were on earth. If Mary hadn’t have died, John wouldn’t go looking and would have never met your mom.
When Dean climbed down those Bunker stairs into the basement, you almost had a heart attack. He was supposed to me dead; that was the only way to stop Amara.
You dropped your beer and beelined for him, closing him a bone crushing hug. Dean chuckled. “You didn’t think she was gonna get me that fast, did you?“
"Shut up,” you mumbled, squeezing him harder.
“You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend,” a soft voice came from behind Dean. Dean let go of you, turned around, and block whoever was there from you.
“She’s, um, not my girlfriend,” Dean said. “Don’t get mad, okay?”
“Why would I get mad?” The voice asked.
“She’s our sister,” Dean said. There was a small oh from in front of him and Dean moved to stand beside you. You gasped when you saw that the person your brother had been talking to was in fact, his mother, Mary.
“Holy shit,” you two both said at the same time.
“She looks so much like John,” Mary said, her eyes tearing up. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Y/N,” you muttered.
Mary’s eyes widen. “That bastard used that name for you? That wasn’t his call. That was going to the name for Sammy if he was a girl.”
“I need some fresh air,” Mary said, before heading back up those stairs.
Tears spilled over your eyes and ran down your cheeks. Dean pulled you into a tight hug and held you close. “I’m sorry,” Dean whispered.”She just needs some time.”
Time? Bullshit. Your dad used a named that he and Mary had picked out. A name for their children. You were never going to approval from Mary. You were never going to have that family dynamic that her, Dean, and Sam used to have.
You were a bastard child to a dead man and now his nondead wife hated you.