The Hunter Diaries // Dean Winchester x Reader

Chapter 4

Dear Diary,

You're going to lose people in your life. It's inevitable. And when you do, you'll realize just how much you took their presence for granted. Nothing hurts worse than realizing you'll never see someone you love again. I've been keeping myself busy, drowning myself in hunts and research for various things, trying to temporarily push reality out of my mind. But it seems that every time I'm back to doing nothing, my mind wanders back to him, and it feels like my throat constricts and I find it hard to breathe. They say time heals all wounds, but do they truly know what it's like to lose the only person you'd ever truly loved? Because that's a wound that never will heal completely, not with all the time in the world.

You set down the pen and raked a hand through your hair. Dean's been dead for about four months, and the hole in your heart refuses to fill. When Bobby told you, it felt like your entire world screeched to a stop. When you found out where he was, you broke down. You couldn't imagine him in such a terrible place. Your dreams had turned to nightmares, ones of Dean in hell. No matter how hard you tried, the night terrors were unavoidable. Unless doused with alcohol.

You found yourself basking in the memory of that goodbye kiss between the two of you. Now that he's dead, you knew what he meant about needing to get away from you, not wanting to hurt you. But it hurts all the same.

Your life now consisted of hunts and worried calls from Bobby. You lost two out of the three people you loved most in the world in short amount of time. You still weren't healed from Carter's death and then Dean bit the dust. The amount of pain you felt was eating away at you. The guilt of Carter's death still hung over you like an eternal storm cloud, it was something you couldn't shake.

Alcohol had turned out to be your best friend. It was easier to cope when a bottle of whisky or two was by your side. It wasn't the best coping method, but with that and the growing amount of dead monsters you were leaving behind, your pain was beginning to numb.

You were currently lounging on a creaky bed in a dingy motel room in Aberdeen, South Dakota. It had been an easy salt and burn case that you had taken care of earlier in the day. You had already lined up another case, a possible vampire nest. It seemed small, maybe five to eight vamps. You knew Bobby would tear you a new one if he knew you were taking on a nest on your own, no matter how small. But you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

You tossed your diary onto the nightstand and grabbed the bottle of whisky from the dust covered wood. You took a swig from the amber liquid and flipped through the channels on the tiny television, settling on a local news station. It was around midnight and you knew you'd have to get up early to get a head start on driving to the small town in Nebraska. But you weren't tired and you hadn't drank enough to keep the nightmares away.

When sleep finally did wash over you, you'd already finished the bottle and it was close to one thirty in the morning. Your body was tired, physically and emotionally. And with help from the booze, your slumber was dreamless and uninterrupted, and you could finally relax.

You drummed your fingers on the steering wheel of your black 1989 Chevy Silverado, humming along to a Metallica song that came onto the radio. The day was cloudy and dim, the sun hidden behind a thick blanket of grey. You were itching to get this hunt over with, hoping that you could gank these sons of bitches before they killed or turned anyone else.

You weren't sure where the nest was located exactly, but you had a few ideas. There were a few abandoned properties and warehouses on the outskirts of town that you decided to look into.

After checking into yet another shitty motel room, You began to suit up for the hunt. You strapped a thigh holster onto your left leg. It held almost a dozen syringes of dead man's blood and a gun loaded with bullets soaked in dead man's blood. Your machete was sheathed in your belt around your waist and you secured an extra knife inside your jacket pocket. After double checking your weapons, you decided to get going.