Fighter: Dean Winchester (REVAMPED VERSION)

ιт'ѕ α тerrιвle lιғe;pαrт ғoυr

Nadia opens a raspberry-flavored lollipop, tossing the wrapper carelessly into the passenger seat of her car. She was waiting for Sam and Dean to arrive at Dean's apartment to talk about the ghost.

Watching them save that guy had made it clear to her why the angels considered them so important—especially Dean.

Even in the midst of chaos, confused and unsure of what was happening, they not only investigated but also didn't hesitate to help a complete stranger. That was rare for humans. Putting your life on the line for the people you love is one thing; doing it for someone you don't even know is another.

"Where are you boys?" Nadia sighed, growing bored.

Her eyes flick to the radio. She turns it on, and Foreigner's I Want To Know What Love Is fills the car. She reaches to change the station but freezes as a sudden memory hits her: Dean and her, eating candy in the front seat of a classic car.

Nadia could feel the intensity of the emotions that memory brought up—the way she had looked at him, the way he had looked at her. The way they'd laughed and had deep conversations.

"You ever been in love, Dean?" she'd asked.

Another memory surfaces, this one of them alone in the car at night.

"You know, now that we're alone, you owe me that kiss," she tells him with a playful grin.

"Get over here, then."

Nadia shakes her head quickly, jolting the memory away as if trying to rid herself of it. She shuts off the radio, her fingers brushing her lips, still feeling the imprint of his fervent kiss.

It felt so real.

But it couldn't be real.

She'd never met Dean Smith in her life.

She touches her curly hair, furrowing her brow. I've never had locs before, either.

"... What the hell is going on?" Nadia mutters to herself, disgusted, tossing the lollipop out the window like it was the plague.

A car pulls up, breaking her from her thoughts. Sam and Dean's Prius.

"Okay, okay," Nadia grips the steering wheel, takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes. "Don't freak out. It wasn't real. It can't be real. It doesn't make sense. You'd remember meeting someone like that." She opens her eyes, her gaze searching for reassurance. "At least, I think I would."

If she had met Dean before, why would Zachariah assign her to him? Especially if Zachariah had been so secretive about Sam and Dean. Something wasn't right, and Nadia couldn't shake the feeling that her uncle was hiding something from her.

And from the boys.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket. She pulls it out, reading the message from Zachariah.

"Ironic," she chuckles to herself.

Any updates?

Instead of responding, Nadia closes her eyes, listening carefully. One of the perks of being an angel was being able to hear what was going on without being physically present.

Dean's apartment is nice—upscale, modern. It has a spacious patio with a nice view of the city. Everything is white and black, accented by neutral browns. Dean paces the room while sipping on his Master Cleanse, his adrenaline still pumping.

"Holy crap, dude."

"Yeah." Sam is sitting on the back of the couch. "I could use a beer."

"Oh, sorry, man." Dean apologizes, moving toward the kitchen. "I'm on the Cleanse. I got rid of all the carbs in the house."