#roonyxxs2Kcelebration

[smellingofpoetry]

Of secrets and sacrifices

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: "Dean remembered how calm it made him feel watching over her during his restless nights. Now, though, it was so painful. Everything he could see when he looked at her was blood."

Square/s Filled: Quote F: "Don't look me like that." "Like what?" "Like you still love me." (TMAS Bingo - @supernatural-jackles)

Warnings: angst, so much angst, some fluff too, implied smut

Words count: 2611

A/N: Hi there! It has been quite some time since the last time I posted a new story. This last month has been crazy, and I don't have much time anymore. I just hope to be able to write and post more often. Now, that being said, I've written this story for the challenges of two lovely people: @libre1rose8 and @roonyxx. For @libre1rose8 the prompts were: "Dean's green Hanley", "I have a secret to tell you" and "into the woods". For @roonyxx I had: "I have always been alone". You'll find the prompt in bold. Girls, I'm so terribly sorry for the delay, I just hope you're gonna like what I came up with. Before I leave you to the story, I wanted to thank the sweet @snowlovespie. Thank you so much for the love, support, and help with this one-shot, I appreciated it more than I can say.🖤 Let me know what you guys think. ;)

Dean Winchester Masterlist - Masterlist

It has been months since the last time they shared a room. Since then, many things had changed, while others had seemed to remain the same.

She still slept with his green Hanley.

He still spent his night looking at her.

Dean remembered how calm it made him feel watching over her during his restless nights. Now, though, it was so painful. Everything he could see when he looked at her was blood.

Blood was on his hands while he was cutting through the soft skin of her abdomen. Her screams still resonated in his ears.

He could already feel the panic starting to creep on him at that memory.

No, wait.

That wasn't…

… that didn't happen.

Did it?

Then why could he still feel her warm blood between his damn fingers?

Dean sat up fast, feeling the air getting shorter with each breath. The cold under his feet was the only thing able to, somehow, ground him, while his hand wouldn't stop trembling. Those images, still stuck in the back of his head, were ready to torture him.

He scratched at his stubbled cheek, dragging his fingers to his eyes and rubbing them. He shouldn't have taken this hunt. He knew something was up the moment Sam had told him about the hunt, insisting for Dean to go help some random hunter asking for backup. He should have known it was about her. To be honest, though, it wasn't Sam's fault, not entirely. Dean was to blame too because he should have left as soon as his suspicions were confirmed. At the end of the day, though, he was a weak mean.

So, here he was in the middle of the night, in a cabin in the woods. So far away from home, trying to deal with something that he thought had been already dealt with.

Dean had never been so wrong in his whole life.

He realized it as soon as he saw her in the empty parking lot, leaning against her green olive car months after Michael. She was more beautiful than he remembered, and the mere sight of her was enough to overwhelm him with a new wave of pain.

He sighed, glancing at the woman sleeping in the bed next to him. Y/N – the woman he had loved once.

No.

Wrong.

The woman he still loved.

The same woman Michael was threatening him with. The one Dean had tortured to death over and over again. And it didn't matter if that was only a simple mind game to keep him in line. It had felt real to him.

She was the one he had to push away, and, damn, if that hadn't hurt.

"Another nightmare?"

Dean froze at the sound of her voice. He could hear her shuffling between the sheets but kept his back to her.

"Something like that."

He cleared his throat, glancing over his shoulder, trying to follow her every move. Dean watched as she adjusted against the headboard, patting the free space next to her. He turned a bit more in her direction while deciding if moving closer as she asked him to was a good idea. Dean shifted his gaze from her to the space between them a couple of times. He knew it was a bad idea when he felt his body move of its accord, taking the seat next to her. Dean leaned against the headboard, arms crossed over his chest. He left as much space between them as possible, too worried about what would happen if he got too close to her. Instead, Y/N had to bite her lip to hold back a smile as she remembered herself to keep her hopes low.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No, not really."

Y/N nodded, not that surprised by his response. She sank more into the pillow behind her back, crossing her ankles. Her hands tucked under her legs to warm them up. She let the silent washed over them. She stole a glance in his direction from time to time until she found the courage to speak again.

"I've been missing this… you."

She could feel the warmth surging from her neck to her cheeks as soon as her words were out. Dean swallowed hard - eyes squeezed shut, and head turned - trying to keep his emotion in check. She dared to glance his way when it was clear that no response would come from him. Her heart quickened its pace.

"I hope you've missed me sometimes too."

Dean got up from the bed at that, a painful smile on his lips, rubbing at his forehead with the tips of his fingers. He kept his back to her, trying to come up with something to say. It seemed like his brain wasn't cooperating because, of course, he had missed her. He had missed her more than he should have. He had missed her more than it was possible.

He missed her like air, and he didn't give a crap if it was too cheesy.

"I didn't, and you shouldn't have either."

And, of course, he had to go and say the worst possible thing because going back now wasn't an option. Little did it matter if his heart was cracking, words afterwords. One more scar and he wouldn't have survived all that pain. He could feel it in his bones, and turning to face her, sitting in the middle of the bed, with her eyes on him, didn't help. It just made things worse.

"Don't look me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you still love me."

"But I do. Nothing can change that."

Dean licked his lips, biting them right back. Head down, he rested his hands on his hips, already regretting what he was about to say.

"Me cheating on you should have had."

He was being a dick. Dean was well aware of that, but that was the only defense he had left to protect her. Y/N nodded her head, looking down at her hands. She trailed the movements of her fingers playing with the hem of her – his – green shirt. All it took was a glimpse at her sad smile for the guilt to come back in full force. She faced him again a few moments later, and Dean braced himself for what was coming next. He knew very well he deserved whatever she was throwing at him.

"I have a secret to tell you."

He frowned in confusion because it wasn't quite what he had expected. He didn't even know what it was. So, he kept silent for once, giving her a chance to say something more, to make him understand.

"I know you didn't cheat on me."

Her voice was a whisper, and Dean could have sworn he'd heard her wrong if it wasn't for the look in her eyes. He was ready to deny it when a simple gesture of her hand stopped him.

"I knew you were lying, and I let you."

He didn't know if it was that small revelation or her watering eyes, but the fight inside him started to fade away. He walked towards the bed, seating on the edge; his mind going a mile a minute trying to elaborate on what Y/N had told him.

She knew all along.

Dean had thought it was a smart move. He thought that lying and hurting her that way would be enough to make sure she would leave the bunker – him – behind. It was the only way to protect her from Michael – from himself.

"Why?"

"To give you a better chance at fighting Michael."

Dean turned around, searching for Y/N's eyes, founding her closer than he thought. One more movement and he could have touched her and, damn, if he wanted to.

"You had a nightmare the first night you were back. You were saying things… you were begging someone to stop, and then you said my name. Since then, you pulled away from me. So, I started to have more and more suspicion even though I didn't say anything about it."

Dean never looked away from her, not once. Not even to blink.

"He was keeping you in line by threatening me, wasn't it?"

He didn't even need to nod for her to know it was the truth. She had known since that night but had kept quiet because too scared, even more than she would have liked to admit. She had been holding on until she couldn't take it anymore.

"That night, the night you said those things to me... I figured it all out, and I thought with me out of the picture, you'd have a better chance of beating him. Giving you an advantage by letting him think you hurt me so bad that I was going to leave and never come back, then…"

She could feel her cheeks getting wetter and wetter while she got rid of the tears with the back of her hand.

"And I was kinda right until I wasn't anymore, and you decided to go suicidal with that damn Ma'lak box."

"How do you know about that?"

"I was there every step of the way, even if you couldn't see me. Do you think I could ever give up on you?"

Y/N tilted her head to one side, trying to study him up as best she could. Dean blinked a few times at her question.

Did he think she could give up on him?

Dean wouldn't blame her if she did it. He knew that being with him came at a cost, and he would have never asked her to pay the price, not for him. He wasn't worth the trouble; at least that was what he thought.

"Sam kept me updated among hunts. I've helped your mom with a couple of hunts. I was at her house when you got there."

Dean narrowed his eyes, remembering what happened when sleeping on his mother's couch. An amused smile appeared on his face.

"So, it was your shirt, the one I found."

Y/N nibbled at her lower lip, a small smile confirming his suspicions. She got closer to him. Their hands almost touched until she felt one of his fingers brushing her warm skin.

"You told my mom to call Sam."

"No, it was me. I called Sam."

"What? No, Sam said…"

"…that your mom was worried, which was true, but I was the one who called him. I did it the moment I found the box."

"You were still there?"

"I wanted to be sure everything was okay before leaving."

"All right, you got me!"

As much as he tried, Dean couldn't keep the pride out of his voice. His girl got him back just right. He should have been mad because his plan backfired. Yet, he couldn't deny that he was so damn impressed and quite turned on if he had to be honest. Y/N lowered her eyes, feeling redness rise on her already warm cheeks under Dean's gaze.

"I'm blaming Michael for that. In no other circumstance, I would've been able to pull it off."

Dean raised his hand, capturing a stray lock of her hair between his fingers. He turned the strand around his index a few times before bringing it behind her ear. Y/N lifted her gaze, meeting his green eyes halfway. The smile on his face caught her off guard. So, she took a few more seconds studying him until she couldn't take it anymore.

"Say something, please."

"You're becoming one hell of a hunter."

She felt his hands on her middle, guiding her to sit on his lap. She had to fight hard to stop the grin that was trying to slip past her lips. Once he had her in his arms, he took his time to look at her. Dean traced every line of her features, realizing at that very moment how much he had missed her.

"All this time, I thought I was protecting you while you were the one protecting me."

"Are you mad?"

"I wish you wouldn't have put yourself in danger because of me? Hell yes, but no, I'm not angry."

Y/N could feel her heart quickening its pace in her chest as a shy little smile showed up on her rose lips. She let her hands wander along his arms, stopping as they reached his shoulders. She touched the collar of his shirt with her fingertips, playing with the soft fabric. Dean stared at her mesmerized, shivering at the feeling of her nails scratching his skin.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Everything? I shouldn't have…"

Dean turned away, shaking his head. He felt disappointed with himself for not being able to find the right words to apologize to her. Y/N cupped his face in her slender hands, caressing his stubbled cheeks with her thumbs.

"I'm sorry for hurting you, Y/N."

She let go of his face, wrapping her arms around his neck, leaning her forehead against his, a small smile on her lips.

"Michael was the one trying to hurt me – us – not you."

"But I've let him."

"That's not possible, and you know why?"

Dean shook his head, tightening the hold around her center, pulling her even closer. She let her finger trail through his hair, massaging his scalp.

"Because of that look in your eyes whenever you're willing to sacrifice yourself for someone you love. I still remember the first time I saw it; I was so jealous at how damn lucky Sam was to have you as his keeper. I'm not proud to admit it, but seeing that kind of love…"

Y/N swallowed hard, struggling to hold back the tears that were threatening to roll down from her already red and puffy eyes.

"The night you said those things to me, you had that same look in your eyes, I saw it, and it was from me then, only me. You were looking at me that way, and it just broke my heart because I knew what that meant, and I couldn't let that happen. I have always been alone, you know, so knowing I was going to be once again shouldn't have scared me that much, but it did. It did because Michael had been trying to take away that one person who has ever cared about me, and I couldn't let him."

She closed her eyes, feeling the tears warming her cheeks. Dean cupped her cheeks with his hands, wiping her tear-stained skin with his thumb. Y/N leaned into his palm. Her eyes fluttered open when his lips found their way to her forehead. They traveled down her temple, leaving a trail of soft kisses.

"You wouldn't have believed me no matter what I'd said, did you?"

Y/N shook her head, a teary smile on her face. She leaned forward, searching for his mouth. She brushed her lips against his warm ones, as Dean stood still, watching her every move.

One glance later, she was kissing him, and it was like being alive again.

It was like every single fiber of his being was on fire. He had experimented with that kind of feeling before. This one, though, was something quite different and sweeter. He was willing to be consumed by her kisses, and that's what he did.

In that shared bed, with trembling fingers and short breaths, they found their way back together. And it wasn't until they were lying in the rumpled sheets that she dared ask him.

"Dean?"

"Uhm?"

"Is it okay for me to come back home now?"

Dean smiled, pulling her closer to his chest before kissing the crown of her head.

"You never really left."

Forevers Tags:

@440mxs-wife @cosicas-cuquis @foxyjwls007 @morganaah

Supernatural Tags:

@flamencodiva @hobby27 @keep-beating-my-dear-heart @leigh70 @littlewhiterose @pastelpeaxch @snowlovespie @stixnstripesworld

Dean/Jensen Tags:

@akshi8278 @awkward-and-indecisive @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @siospins2 @stitchintimefan @universallyraylangivens @waynes-multiverse @woodworthti666 @sexyvixen7

#libre1rose8goes300 #roonyxxs2Kcelebration #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #michael!dean #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #spn #spn fic #spn fan fiction #spn fanfiction #secrets #sacrifices

[holylulusworld]

Locked in with the devil

Title: Locked in with the devil

Written for @roonyxx​​‘s 2k challenge. A little late but I hope you like it. Congrats again. My prompt was “I’m scared” + Locked in a room.

Summary: One of the most annoying clients keeps you busy at the boutique you are working at. What happens if you get trapped with said man?

Pairing: Mobster!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, cocky Dean, a hint of arrogant Dean in the beginning, also protective Dean, there is a hint of fluff, violence, violence against the reader (not Dean), hostage situation, robbery, implied character’s death

A/N: I went for AU Dean for this challenge. He’s still a cocky and charming cookie. 😉

“How about this tie, Sir?” the man furrows his brows. He sneers before turning his attention back toward the ties he dropped onto the checkout. “Sir?”

Shit, you already decided to hate him, but he flashes you a smile, taking your breath away. He’s undoubtedly the most attractive man you ever met. His piercing green eyes, pink plump lips, and sharp features scream male model.

He’s wearing an expensive suit, looking like it was custom made. Everything about the man giving you a cocky grin screams rich and spoiled douche. Everything but his soft eyes as he watches your shoulder sag.

“Nah, I don’t like it, sweetheart,” you cringe at the too-sweet pet name. Especially as he looks you up and down, humming before turning his attention back toward the ties. “I need the perfect tie to tie my girl to the bedpost.” 

“I don’t know what else to show you. These are the newest models. We got some others in the back. My boss wants to put them on sale next week.”

“Hmm…” he nods thoughtfully. “How about you tell me which one you like? What do you think would suit me best, sweetheart?” again, that pet name. You shrug it off, hoping he’ll decide on a tie soon so you can finally close the store and head home.

“I’m afraid that—” you glance at the ties on the checkout, deciding to just blindly choose a tie to get the man out of the store. “Okay, let’s see.” You look him deep in the eyes, nodding as you remember there was an emerald tie with a simple design. “This one.” You pick the tie up to hold it in front of his face. “It matches your eyes, Sir.”

“Good choice,” he smirks as you exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Now I only need like ten more.”

“Ten?” you choke out. It’s long past closing time and now, you will need much longer to get home. A grocery run is still waiting for you, and then you need to walk back home. “I’ll find them—oh no! What?”

The man twirls around as two masked men storm into the boutique, one of them aiming a gun at your customer. “Believe me, boy. You don’t want to do this,” your legs are about to give in, and you tremble in fear while your customer chuckles. “Do you have the slightest idea who I am?”

“No, and I don’t fucking care, asshat,” one of the men grunts. “Crash, bring the girl and that douche to the back, lock them in the office while I take care of the cashier.”

“We shouldn’t forget the safe,” the other man replies, wildly gesturing toward the door leading to the office in the back. “We want all the money. If you are a good girl, nothing will happen to you. If not…well you will see.”

Crash steps closer to your customer and presses his shotgun into the man’s chest in a silent threat. “Turn around and follow the girl to the back. If you don’t act out, you’ll survive the night and can buy more fancy clothes.”

“Fancy, huh?” the man drops his eyes to the shotgun, analyzing his situation, debating to risk fighting for the shotgun or not. Then he remembers you are still with him and decides to just wait for a better chance.

He slowly turns around and places one hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t let them harm you.”

“Says you,” you sniff as the robber barks orders at you and your customer. “They have guns. One of them has fucking shotgun. Damn it. I don’t want to die for my boss’s money.”

“Stop talking!” the man yells and you flinch. You walk a little faster, aware that the men could easily kill you and your customer. “Open the office and the safe for me.”

Your fingers tremble as you fish the keys to the office out of your pocket. You know your boss will try to blame you for not closing the boutique on time. “Fuck, please open up,” you struggle to find the right key. “Shit.”

“Why do you need so long, bitch?” your customer grunts at the man’s comment. “Hurry or you’ll not leave this place ever again.”

“Give me the keys,” gently touching your hand your customer nods at you. He’s giving you a curt nod before taking the keys out of your hands to unlock the office. “There you go.”

“Get in and open the safe!” stumbling into the room you try to remember where the safe is. On your first day at work, your boss told you about the safe, but that’s that. You didn't pay much attention to it as she made clear you must stay away from her office and the safe.

“I don't know how! I’m only selling clothes here,” you cry as the man points the shotgun at you now. “She never told me how to open it.”

“Stop lying, bitch,” the man backhands you, making you cry out in pain. Blood seeps out of the cut at your cheek and drops onto your blouse. “Open the fucking safe.”

“She came and got the money an hour ago. My boss wanted to bring it to the bank. There is nothing inside but papers, I think,” you stumble backward as the man wields the shotgun in front of your face. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I suggest you take the cash from the register and run for your life,” your lips quiver as your customer takes two steps toward you and brings you behind his back with one swift motion. “Or maybe call her boss, and tell her you keep one of her employees hostage.”

“I’ll call that boss and get my money,” the man storms out of the room, slams the door shut, and locks you and your customer inside the room.

“No—no,” you are full-bloom panicking now. “They will kill us now! Bela will never pay them shit for me. She doesn’t even like me.”

“Sweetheart,” he turns around to check on your face. “I promised to keep you safe and I will keep that promise. I want you to listen to me now.”

“I don’t even know your name,” it’s the stupidest thing to ask the man now but you want to know the man who will die next to you tonight. “Mine is Y/N.”

“I know,” he points at your nametag, chuckling again. “I’m Dean Winchester, Y/N. Now I will check on your face and then, I’ll find a way to get us out of here, okay.”

“Okay,” Dean gets a handkerchief out of his  pocket to press the fabric to your bleeding wound. “I should’ve killed him right there.”

“He’s got a shotgun, Dean,” you start to cry again. “Fuck, I don’t want to end dead. I wanted to do so many things.”

“You’ll do all those things,” he softly speaks, hand running over your hair. “Y/N, I want you to hide under the desk and not to come out until I tell you so. Can you do this for me, sweetheart?”

“I’m scared, Dean,” outside the room you can hear the men yell at each other. “Please, I don’t want to die without doing all the things on my bucket list.”

“What’s first on your bucket list, Y/N,” Dean asks. “Just tell me. Maybe we can make sure you cross it off your list after tonight.”

“It’s…uh…you know,” your drop your gaze, giggling as this is the wrong time to think about number one on your bucket list. “Kiss a stranger.”

“We will see what we can do about that one later. Now, quick hide behind the desk,” you do as Dean told. He nods, smiling softly while getting his phone out of his jacket pocket. Why didn’t you think about calling for help?

“Damn, I’m such a damsel in distress,” grumbling you crawl under the desk to hide from the men robbing the boutique. “Fuck, my phone is in my jacket…”

“Sammy, I’m sorry to ruin your plans for tonight, but I kinda got into the worst robbery ever. I’m still at the boutique and two amateurs try to rob it. One with a shotgun, not the smartest. Seem to be young guys. The other has a revolver. The one with the shotgun knows how to handle it, the other not so much. Here’s a girl too, so don’t kill us on the way…”

“What? Who did you call, Dean? Why didn’t you call the cops?” wrap your arms around your legs, trembling in fear. “Are you crazy? This was our chance to get out of here alive.”

“Sure. We would’ve ended up dead as the cops usually mess hostage situations up. My men will take them down. Just sit tight, sweetheart.”

“Did I tell you already that you are an ass?” poking your head out from under the desk you glare up at Dean. “I swear if I survive the night, I’ll give you a piece of my mind.”

“I told you to duck your head and hide under the desk. Christ, you are a handful, sweetheart. After my men took these amateurs down, we will have a long conversation about your attitude.”

“My attitude?” you grumble. “What—?” a scream tears from your throat as gunshots echo through the boutique. Dean immediately crouches down next to you to bring you into his arms. You willingly hide your face in his chest and hold tight onto him for dear life. “I’m scared…”

“Shhh…I’ve got you, Y/N. You’re an annoying little trouble maker, but I will keep my promise,” scared you ignore Dean’s comment. You rather fist his jacket and start praying. “My brother got this…”

“Dean, you can come out. We’ve got them,” you cling to Dean as he tries to get up. “DEAN!”

“In here. I’m fine, Sammy. The girl is clinging to me and won’t let me get up,” Dean chuckles as you look up at him, still trembling in fear. “You’re safe now, Y/N. Let’s get out of here.”

“O-kay,” Dean helps get up. Your legs are wobbling, and he must help you walk toward the door too. “Thank you.”

“Sam, open the door. We are coming out now,” one arm slung around your shoulders, Dean guides you out of the room after Sam unlocked the door. “What’s with the amateurs?”

“Alive, but injured,” Sam shrugs as you look at the men threatening to kill you. “I thought you want to take care of them. What’s with the girl?” looking at you Sam’s features soften. “We should get her out of here first.”

“Benny, help her grab her things and bring Y/N out of here. I want to have a short conversation with those assholes,” you’re still too out of it to talk back. You follow Benny out of the boutique, hating that you feel helpless and weak.

“Buddy, you made three mistakes tonight,” Dean towers over the man attacking you. “Your first mistake was to enter the boutique. Your second mistake was to not recognize me and,” he beats the man with his gun, smirking as the man winces in pain, “the last one was to hit the girl. That was unnecessary.”

“She paid us to fake a robbery,” the other man cries as Sam points his gun at his head. “Bela said her employee is collateral damage.”

“The owner wanted you to rob her store?” cocking his head Dean looks at the man. “Why? This doesn’t make sense.”

“Her insurance, Sir…Mr. Winchester,” the man stammers, eyes glued to the gun in Sam’s hands. “Please, I didn’t touch the girl. My gun wasn’t even loaded.”

“Stop talking,” the man in front of Dean grunts. “Do you want to go to jail for Bela? Shut your damn mouth.”

“You should be more afraid of what I’ll do to you,” smirking Dean unlocks his gun. “Say your prayers, you son of a bitch…”

“Where are we going? This is not the way to the police station!” you look out of the window, frowning as the car slows down in front of a large gate. “What is this place?”

“My home, sweetheart,” Dean shrugs. “I told you we will bring you somewhere safe. It seems that your boss wanted you to die tonight. Until I know you are safe, you’ll stay with me.”

“WHAT?” blinking a few times you look at Dean. “Why do you want to keep me around? You don’t even know me!”

“Well, you helped me find the perfect tie. I owe you a favor and,” he leans closer to you to glance at your lips, “you still want to cross that kiss off your bucket list...”

Tags in reblog.

#Locked in with the devil #roonyxxs2Kcelebration #dean winchester #mobster!dean x reader #MOBSTER!AU #mobsterdean #angst #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction

[twdsunshine]

Nothing Left To Lose (One-Shot)

Summary:  Dean is going to hell, but he won’t talk about it.  Until the reader catches him in a weak moment...

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings:  None

Word Count:  1,698

Check out my bio for a link to my Masterlist!

Author’s Note:  This is my entry for Roonyxx’s 2K Celebration!  My prompt was ‘I wish you had told me’ which is in bold.  This is a lot of angst, but in a fluffy kinda way, I think.  Hopefully, I’ve done the moment justice.  Thank you, @roonyxx for hosting, and thank you all for reading!  Enjoy!

*****

It hadn’t taken long to track Dean down.  As a rule of thumb, you just had to head to the nearest dive bar or roadhouse, and there he would be, propping up the bar whilst he worked his charm on a pretty girl, all gleaming smile and emerald eyes.  Tonight though, he was tucked away in the shadows, slumped over the table in a dark corner, nursing a tumbler of whiskey.  He barely glanced up as you slid into the seat opposite him, flinching away from your touch when you reached out your hand to cover his.  

“You shouldn’t be here.”  His voice was deep and rough with tiredness, and you knew that he hadn’t been sleeping, tossing and turning on the lumpy motel room bunks or else sitting up until the early hours poring over yet another case.  “Go back to the room, Y/N.”

“No.”  Shrugging out of your jacket to emphasise your point, you shuffled your chair closer, your heartbeat faltering when his gaze locked on yours.  “I’m staying.”

“Why?”

“Because you need to talk to someone, and you won’t put that sort of burden on Sam, so that means it has to be me.”  Did he think that it had escaped your notice, somehow, that he was drowning?  Did he think that you couldn’t feel his fear as he sat just inches away from you, burying himself in the research that he’d previously hated, just so he didn’t have to think, didn’t have to face what lay ahead for him?  Did he think you didn’t care?  You’d been hunting with the Winchesters for some time now, had seen his desperation when Sam had been killed Cold Oak, stabbed right in front of your eyes.  You hadn’t been able to stop him when he’d stormed out to make the deal that now haunted him as the year he’d been granted counted down.  On the surface, Dean was your best friend, but, in truth, your feelings for him ran much deeper, and it was physically hurting you to see him go through this, facing his own demise and descent into hell, alone.

“Nothin’ to talk about.”

“I’m calling bullshit, Winchester,” you snarked, rewarded when his scowl twisted into a smirk, softening the darkness of his expression, just a little.  “I know you pretty well by now, and I know that you’re scared.  I know that this is eating you up, and it’s not helping anyone to suffer in silence.  Now, Sammy’s safe and sound, buried in his books, and it’s just you and me.  So, I’m asking you, as your friend who loves you, please… Talk to me.”

For a moment, you thought he might shut you down, try again to send you away, and he raised his glass to his lips, taking a sip of whiskey and letting it sit on his tongue before swallowing it, hissing through his teeth as it burned down his throat.  And then he ducked his head, staring at the scarred wood beneath his hands, and you could barely hear him over the beat of the jukebox as he whispered, “I don’t wanna die.”

“Dean-”

“I made the deal.  It was my choice, and I made it because I couldn’t do this without Sam.  It was my job to keep him safe, and I failed.  That’s on me.  But… I don’t wanna go to hell.”  He huffed out a choked sigh, and, when he glanced up at you, his eyes were shining with emotion.  “What do you think’s waiting down there for someone like me, huh?  Amount of demons I’ve ganked…  They’re gonna have a damn field day.”

“There’s got to be a way out of this,” you insisted.  How many times had the brothers overcome seemingly insurmountable odds?  When things seemed hopeless, they were the men who flipped things on their head and came out on top.  How was it that this time there seemed to be no way out?

“Don’t.”  Dean’s voice broke as he shook his head, and you itched to reach for him once again, holding back for fear that he’d pull away and shut down on you when you’d finally got him talking.  “Don’t even…  Sammy’s looked, Y/N.  Bobby’s looked.  If there was a way out, we would’ve found it by now.  I can’t get my hopes up that there’s gonna be a happy ending for me, not this time.  This is it.”

“But it’s not fair.”  This time it was your voice shaking, your eyes that were welling with tears, and somehow it was him reaching for you, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles as you fought to get yourself under control.  This wasn’t why you’d come here.  You were supposed to be offering comfort, not demanding it from him, but it just hurt so bad to even think about life without him by your side.  “How are we supposed to do this without you, Dean?  Sammy can’t lose you.  I can’t lose you!”

He had no answers.  

Your chair screeched against the hardwood floor as you shoved it back from the table, rounding it before you could overthink your actions and dropping into his lap, looping your arms around his neck.  You could feel his heart thudding through his chest where he was pressed flush against you, and he seemed to tremble as he buried his face in the hollow of your throat, hiding from your gaze as he cried.  Your heart shattered.  Despite his strength, his courage, his innate masculinity, Dean had never been one to shy away from showing his emotions, especially not with those he loved, but never before had you seen him fall apart as he seemed to be now, his large hands spanning over your spine as he held you to him.  The rest of the noise seemed to melt away, the world shrinking until it was just the two of you, wrapped around each other, sobbing out your desolation until your eyes were red and your shirt was damp and clinging to your skin.

His hair tickled the tip of your nose as you dipped your head against his, breathing in the musky scent of him, citrus bodywash and gunpowder and engine oil.  The thick locks swallowed up your words as you whispered your secret, just because… Because you might not get another chance to say it; because otherwise he might never know; because time was running out, and he was going to die, and it was overwhelming and heartbreaking, and you couldn’t find a reason not to say it anymore.  “I love you.”

He stiffened beneath you, muscles tensing as he pulled back, searching your face for any sign that he’d misheard.  “Y/N…”

“I don’t want you to go, Dean.  I- I love you, so much.”

“How long?”

“Always.”  It was true.  You couldn’t remember a time that you’d known Dean Winchester and not loved him.  He was everything: a bad boy with a good heart; a monster with the best intentions; the only person in the world that you could ever imagine being with in the life that you’d built.  

“I…”  He tailed off, clearing his throat as he seemed to struggle with the idea, and you got it, knew him well enough to know that he didn’t consider himself worthy of it, of love; knew he would be struggling to understand.  “I wish you had told me.”

“I didn’t know how,” you admitted, combing your fingers through his hair, soft despite the product that he worked through it each morning.  “I… There was never a good time.”

“And now there’s no time.”  He looked lost, and your hands fell to his face, smoothing over the creases of his frown as if you could take his pain away.  

“There’s right now.”  Because there was nothing else to say.  He was right - there was no hope.  There were no magic words, nothing that would change his situation or make it go away.  But, perhaps, you could distract him from it, just for a moment, a heartbeat of peace before the horror surged back in.  

His eyes didn’t leave yours as you shifted in his grip, tilting his head back so you could lean over him, and then they drifted shut as your breaths mingled in the space between you, the tension leaving his muscles as you rubbed the pad of your thumb over his bottom lip.  His cheeks were coarse with stubble this late in the day, and you ghosted your mouth along his jawline before finding his, sinking into the velvet soft feel of him and letting out a low moan of satisfaction when he kissed you back.  The faint trace of whiskey lingered on his tongue, and he rumbled with a growl as you tugged gently at the short hair at the nape of his neck, his hold on you growing impossibly tighter as he let you absorb his anguish and chase his nightmares away.  And you knew… You knew it was a mistake because, now that you knew how it felt to be in his arms, how he tasted when his lips moved on yours, the disgruntled noises he made when you pulled away to draw breath, it would be even harder to let him go.

As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, Dean finally broke away, green irises eclipsed by black.  The calluses on his hands were rough against your skin as he cupped your cheek, bringing your forehead down to his as if he needed you close to breathe, and you understood that because you felt the same.  It was a lot to put on one kiss: a kiss to make him forget; a kiss that you both would remember; a kiss that was a first and a goodbye, dripping with regret and promises never made.

“I don’t wanna die,” he told you again.  

“I know.”

“I won’t let Sammy see me like this.”

“I know that, too.”

“I- I love you.”  He brushed your hair back from your face, gazing up at you with a raw affection that you hadn’t known he was capable of.  “Never could say it but now… I’ve got nothing left to lose.”

*****

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