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mummybear · 4 years

Text

Haunting His Dreams

Words: 2110

Warnings: Swearing (Of course), heavy drinking, mentions of major character death.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OC (Izzy)

Characters: Dean Winchester, OC, Sam Winchester, Mentions Of Metatron, Mentions Of Demon Dean

Summery: After Dean is cured of being a demon he finds that the love of his life has moved on from him and the bunker, things had been to painful for her after he died and she wanted out. How will he handle it? Will he ever see her again?

A/N: Okay guys so this is for @impala-dreamer‘s Make me feel it challenge. So this will be a two parter, so for this first part I chose the song Happier by Ed Sheeran (Link to song here)

It had only been mere weeks since the black had faded from Dean’s eyes, even less time since he’d managed to rid himself of the mark. Yet all the drinking In the world couldn’t drown out the pain he had from losing her, the day that he’d died he’d lost so much more than his life and his soul.

When he’d woken as a demon, he quickly found out she’d left, he had buried it immediately. Behind other people’s blood, other people's pain and all the damn violence that he could inflict. After all, he couldn’t feel anything, not for the love of his life, not for his little brother Sam nor anything else for that matter.

The marks rage burned through his entire body, everything that made him who he was, it was still there, somewhere deep down inside him, but he just didn’t care. Instead as a demon, every bad part of him, every part that he didn’t want to have to admit to himself existed, was just amplified beyond reason but he liked it. There was part of human Dean that liked being numb, the demon liked the power, having no feelings to hold him back from doing what he wanted and needed to do at that time.

Then Sam had brought him back to the bunker, and he’d cured him. Everything he’d been fighting against, every feeling of guilt, pain and anguish rushed right back to the surface and hit him like a speeding fucking truck. When he’d asked where she was, it was almost like he knew what Sam was going to say to him, even before he’d said it. Yet hearing it out loud, it was so much worse than he could’ve ever imagined, she was gone but only from the hunting life. Although from what they knew she was happy, managing to stay hidden so far as Sam knew. But she was alive at least and that was how Dean wanted her to stay.

There was no way in hell that Dean was going to drag her back into this life, put her in danger again, not when she was finally safe. No matter just how much it ripped him apart inside. And it did, every single second of every damn day. Like there was a black hole in his fucking chest, like a new wound opened every time he opened his eyes.

Of course, that was the other part of the problem. Every time he closed his eyes he saw hers staring right back at him, the way her smile would light up the entire damn room. Like nothing else he’d ever seen before. Some nights the only way he could get to sleep was to curl up in a ball and cry. He’d throw and smash things, punch and kill things but nothing helped, not even a little bit, not even for a second. He’d tried to hide it from Sam, but if anyone knew Dean better than he knew himself it was his brother.

So, every time he left the bunker, he’d made sure to at least have a flask with him, it didn’t even matter if it was the cheapest shit on earth anymore, literally anything to block out the pain. Pretty much any and all feelings really. He just couldn’t think about it anymore, his old life. But the main reason was that he couldn’t think about her anymore. Who she was with, what she was doing. If she was missing him as much as he was missing her, if she ever thought about him anymore.

Sam had told him to just go, go and find her. He had practically begged him. Told him to tell her that he was back, that he was okay, explain everything that had happened to him while she was away.

But as Dean sat there in a small booth at some run down bar in town, he found himself looking out the slightly dirty window. The park across the street was full of laughing screaming kids. Not to mention all of the couples that were holding hands and laughing, that had never been them not that they didn’t want that, they just couldn’t have that life together. But they had been happy, happier than he had ever remembered feeling in his whole miserable life.

Which is why as he sits here looking out of this window, he tries not to but he thinks about her, everything they might’ve had but now they never can, never will.

Then it happens. He sees her, she’s smiling and laughing with some guy, one of her arms is looped through one of his. That black hole in Dean’s chest is ripped open once more, it hurts more than he ever thought imaginable, so much more than when that angel blade was plunged in his chest. Then he realises that he can’t swallow, the massive lump that forms in his throat is back and it won't go away. A tear falls from his eye, quickly followed by another. Those green eyes that were once so bright, and yet now they’re so dull. Squeezing his eyes shut tight, he fights to blink them away. Roughly clearing his throat, he swallows that lump finally with a gulp of his liquor, which burns its way painfully down his throat.

Dean’s heart is thundering his chest as she walks closer to the door of the bar where he sits, in his corner booth hidden. The love of his life, just meters away and there’s not a thing that he can do about it. He can’t pull her into his arms like he used to kiss her, tell her everything is gonna be okay. He can only watch her from the sidelines and it’s so much worse than hell on earth.

Standing from his chair when they walk inside, he manages to slip out the back unseen. Throwing his back against the wall, he takes a deep shaky breath once he feels he can breathe again. The cold air bites at the tear tracks on his cheeks and burns the back of his throat. Quickly he wipes the tear tracks away and he walks away from that bar. Vowing that he will never go there again. He can’t stand it, being so close yet not being able to have her.

A few days pass in a blur of hunting and drinking. They finally get back to the bunker and Dean can’t stop his mind from wandering. Under his eyes is still a mix of red and blue from lack of sleep, since he’d seen her everything had just gotten that much harder. But he wants this for her, he needs this for her. She’s happy and seeing her smile the other day was almost worth the pain he’s in right now.

Then he remembers her face, the day that he was stabbed with the angel blade by Metatron. Unfortunately, he remembers it like it was yesterday.

The second that angel blade had been pushed through his chest, he remembers how it slid in his chest like butter, little to no resistance. She and Sam had ran in just in time to see it happen. He remembers the way that she’d screamed his name, running up to him and falling down on her knees beside him. As Sam forced a handkerchief to his chest, she had held his hand so tight as she sobbed, pressing those soft kisses to his cheek that he loves. Telling him that everything was going to be okay and god did he want to believe her. Both her and Sam were doing their best to convince him he was getting out of this.

He remembers the next words he’d said, like they were said yesterday. The look on hers and his brothers face. “It’s better this way” He had ignored Sam and his girl as they’d tried to stop him talking. “The mark. It’s making me into something I don’t wanna be”

Sam had refused to listen, of course he had, Dean expected nothing else. Sam had helped him to his feet and Dean could feel the blood filling his throat as he stood. Could even feel it beginning to leak from his lips. The look of fear in her eyes silently said that she’d seen it too.

What he had said next were the last words he spoke and they were so true, “I’m proud of us” and he really was. He turned to her then the best he could, she tried to smile between the tears. “I love you Dean Winchester” she sobbed pressing a kiss to his bloodied lips. He didn’t have time to reply, he’d died in his brothers arms seconds later, her hands still cupping his cheeks.

He hoped she knew, just how much she meant to him. A few hours pass and he can’t sit there thinking anymore, he decides to head out. The bunker was slightly void of food. Even if he wasn’t really eating it right now, Sam would need to eat. So grocery shopping it was.

Dean doesn’t tell Sam when he leaves, he knows that his little brother only worries, and will almost definitely try to go with him. So he heads out alone, he always felt alone these days anyway. The impala was one of the only places that he still finds comfort anymore, all the times they had spent in there together helped.

He parks in the parking lot, heading inside the bright store, it feels like he’s in a trance. Tossing things in the cart, he sees the shampoo that she used to use, uncapping it he inhales the scent and clears his throat. Feeling the lump beginning to return and the tears pushing at the back of his eyes, he pushes it down where it belongs.

Returning the bottle to the shelf he rounds the corner and he almost falls over, because he sees her again. Right in front of him, she has her back to him as she laughs with the same guy she’d been with before.

Abandoning his cart, he leaves the store as fast as he can. Hands stuffed in his pocket, keeping his head down low, he hopes it will be enough to keep him hidden. She was happy, as much as he wanted to, he wasn’t gonna turn around and fuck her life up. She deserved to be loved, to be worshipped. There was nobody who would love her like he did, but that she deserved all the love in the world. She would always have his heart no matter what.

Swearing under his breath his shaking hands struggle to put the key in the ignition. Silently begging whoever, that he would get out of there unseen. He thanks his baby when she starts, he rips out of that parking lot like his life damn near depends on it, swigging from the flask as he drives. Even the back of her head was insanely fucking perfect, just like he’d remembered. He could still smell her perfume like it was torturing him even now.

Arriving back at the bunker he throws the door closed behind him, swearing as he pushes his hands in his hair as he sinks to the floor, his back slamming against the solid metal. Knees pulled to his chest as his ass hit the floor. He wanted to scream and he knows that he can’t take this much longer. His heart is almost literally being ripped out of his chest, is he supposed to put up with this forever. Every single fucking day for the rest his entire life.

Dean stands from the floor, his flask is empty, he needs to pass out before he does something he really regrets. Before he goes to find her.

Then his heart sinks in his chest, there’s a key turning in the bunkers main door lock. He turns just in time to miss the swing of the door hitting him in the face.

His green eyes meet her stunning blue ones, eyes he’s been dreaming about for as long as he can remember. He feels like his tongue is swollen in his mouth, like he can’t breathe as she steps inside. Her bag falling beside the closing door, she’s so damn close that he can’t be dreaming because there’s too much pain, too much relief and overwhelming guilt.

“Dean?” she practically sobs, taking another step closer.

He can’t move, it's like he’s stuck in concrete. His mouth drops open, a breathy whimper leaving his lips. “Izzy”

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