#sdv alex x female reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thebiggerbear · 4 months

Text

Dean Winchester x Reader - Prompt Response - "Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Summary: When Sam calls to tell you that Dean is gone, you can't accept it. Not until you visit the offline Bunker and see for yourself. ...But is he really gone?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader; Dean Winchester x Huntress!Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. I had this idea for a scene in my head that took place during 15x20 with the reader and Sam & then from there it just kind of wrote itself, including the semi-twist. Hope it's okay.

There is a song mentioned in here ("Is This Love" by Whitesnake) which is a sort of homage/dedication/thank you. I read this Dean x Reader fic a long time ago (I can't remember the name of the fic or the author right now, I'm sorry!) but they used the song for some Dean/Reader time in the Impala and I had never heard the song before so I checked it out. I have become obsessed with it. It's so perfect, not only for Dean but in general as an 80s love rock ballad. So thank you to that author whoever you are!

This is meant to take place between mid-15x20 and Dean's foray in The Winchesters (pre-series).

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Warnings: angst; mentions of character death; mentions of implied sex

Word Count: 12k+

Dean Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

You sat on the corner of the bed in your motel room, numb, your phone next to you, having been forgotten long ago.

It couldn’t be true. It wasn’t. You refused to believe it. How was Dean just gone? On a simple hunt? How?

Sam had called you to give you the news. You could hear the breaks in his voice as he relayed what happened, sounding as if he had been crying just a few minutes before. Vampires. Who were mute. A gang of them run by a vampire named Jenny they had faced off with years ago. On a hunt with John. She had gotten away and they thought she was gone for good. Apparently not.

You were frozen, in shock, unable to process what he was telling you.

“Y/N?”

“I… I need to see him,” you whispered.

Sam was quiet for a moment before he forced out, “I gave him a hunter’s funeral.”

You shut your eyes in pain. “What?” You could feel your throat tightening as well as your chest.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I had to. I couldn’t…” You heard him take a breath. “I couldn’t make the long drive with… I just couldn’t.” You could hear those breaks again and you should have been hurting for him, that not only did he have to watch his brother die but he’d had to burn him alone. But right then you got angry and you couldn’t help snapping at him.

“Why would you burn his body, Sam? You know we need his body to bring him back!”

“Y/N, he didn’t want to be brought back.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yeah, I do. He told me right before he died. As long as I was going to be okay,” Another break. “He was done.”

A tear rolled down your cheek and regret immediately consumed you. You knew Sam was telling you the truth. Dean making sure Sam would be okay as he was dying clinched it for you. Sam had always been his main concern. You started mentally berating yourself then. If only you hadn’t let fear stop you, you could have given him something to live for, to fight for. He would have let Sam call for help, call Jack, something. He would have made sure he somehow made it home, just like he always did. But you didn’t and now, he was gone. Truly and irrevocably gone.

Another tear slipped down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away. “I have to go, Sam.”

“Y/N, I—”

You ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed. You weren’t trying to be heartless. Sam was obviously struggling and you should be there for him. That’s what Dean would want, you knew that. The two of you being there for each other, helping one another, you looking after his little brother while he looked out for you. But you just…couldn’t.

Why hadn’t you called Dean? After everything that went down with Chuck and Jack? Why hadn’t you reached out? You owed him that at the very least. So why hadn’t you?

You knew the answer to that. You were scared and like a coward, you’d told yourself it wouldn’t have made a difference. It wouldn’t have changed anything. But a part of you knew it would and that scared you just as much.

You thought back to the last time you’d seen him, right after he and Sam went to try to get Amara on board against Chuck. He was still reeling with the news that Cas had told him before he’d left, that Jack was going to sacrifice himself to kill Chuck. He cared about Jack, more than he let on, even though the kid had accidentally killed Mary. Jack was family to him and he was having a serious moment of doubt. If Jack’s plan would work; if he should let it happen; if he should tell Sam; if Chuck hadn’t been right, he would win in the end. He was so beyond tired of that: Chuck winning. He didn’t want to sacrifice Jack but if they could be free of Chuck and have a chance…

He was torn up about it and he’d called you, asked you where you were, then begged you to come to the Bunker when he found out you were only an hour or so away. You hadn’t wanted to, you could hear the desperation in his voice and you knew all too well what would happen if you went. You were still hurting and you didn’t know if you could survive that.

You didn’t bother telling him that the reason you were an hour outside of town was because you’d temporarily settled there, not sure where to go or what to do. Sure, you took on hunts here and there, but ultimately you were lost. Ever since Dean broke things off with you because he couldn’t tell what was real anymore versus what had been Chuck all along. The breakup had hurt, of course, but that caused pain in you that you weren’t really sure you would ever come back from. Him thinking everything between you might not be real? After you’d given him everything you could because you deeply loved him? In your heart, you knew it was real, but when you had said this to him, he’d simply responded with “I don’t” in his typical detached way he adopted whenever he had made up his mind that he had to do something for the greater good, no matter how hard it might be. You thought he had already broken your heart, but it shattered right then in your chest.

Since it was Dean, though, and he never begged, you went. And sure enough, what you worried would happen, happened. One minute, you’d been wiping the rare tears he let fall around you, and the next minute, he was kissing you and gently pushing you back onto his bed. You could feel the desperation in his movements, his touches, the way his lips trailed over your skin. Shockingly, he took his time with you, and it only hit you halfway through that this was his real goodbye. It wasn’t guaranteed that Billie’s plan would work but he hoped it would. And if it did, then that meant he and Sam would finally be free and they could hang it up if they wanted to, do something else with their lives and move on. And that possible future didn’t include you.

You’d silently cried then, holding onto Dean as he moved and moaned into your ear. When he pulled back to kiss you, your cheeks were free of any tear tracks and you kissed him back. You wondered how on earth he couldn’t feel that this was very real between you as you moved your hips to meet his in a tender rhythm as he held you in his lap, his green eyes staring into yours as he held you close. Sex was sex but this right here, this right in between you right then that he refused to put a name to, it was beyond real. You knew he could feel it just as much as you could…so why was he still hellbent on throwing it (and you) away?

A little while later, you had laid there, with his head on your chest, running your fingers through his hair in soothing strokes, his body still entangled with yours, staring up at the ceiling as you both were still trying to catch your breath. Your heart spoke for you before you could stop it. “I love you,” you whispered, meaning it with every fiber of your being.

It shocked the hell out of you and made something warm and fluttery happen inside your chest when he sleepily murmured to your skin, “Love y’too. Don’go.” You ended up chalking it up to him being in a post-sex sleep daze though, not knowing what he was really saying or even really having heard you correctly. That or he only meant for the night because the very next morning, things went back to how they were.

Dean seemed surprised when he woke up to find you next to him, scrolling through the news feed on your phone for any new cases. You’d given him a warm smile. “Hey, sleepyhead,” you teased.

Instead of smiling back, though, he cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Hey.” You could see that familiar detached expression settle on his features and you knew he was regretting the night before. He had been drinking by the time you got there, sure, but he hadn’t been inebriated. He was incredibly lucid by the time he made a move on you so try as he might, this couldn’t be chalked up to a drunken mistake.

You could literally feel that wall going back up and you gave one last ditch effort to keep him from shutting you back out, even laying a hand over his. “Dean, don’t—”

He pulled away from you and got out of bed, quickly slipping on his Scooby Doo boxers and jeans that he grabbed from the floor. You might have smiled seeing the familiar underwear that you hated but secretly loved if you weren’t hurting so much. “I’m hungry. You hungry?” He asked, slipping a black t-shirt over his head. “I’ll go see if Sam’s cooking anything up. I need a serious cup of coffee. You just…” He glanced back at you, seeing you holding the sheet tightly to your chest as you watched him, compulsively swallowing when he saw your eyes glistening. “You, uh, just come out when you’re ready.” He then made his way out of the room, closing the door behind him and never looking back.

You sat back against the headboard, dissolving into a fit of tears and quiet sobs. You knew you should have never come. Once you were able to breathe without fresh tears welling up, you got yourself cleaned up and redressed. You splashed some water on your face and you took a deep breath before leaving the room. You were near the bunker stairs when Sam called out to you.

“Hey! Y/N!”

He was coming over to you, a big smile on his face. He was pleased to see you.

“Hey,” you greeted back just as warmly, forcing a smile.

He gave you a quick hug and you could see Jack a little ways behind him, giving you a smile and wave. “I didn’t know you were here. We were just about to have breakfast. Why don’t you join us?”

“Oh, I…”

You were saved from having to make an excuse when Dean appeared next to Jack, his expression severe and cold all at the same time. “She’s got a hunt she’s heading out for. Possible vamp nest in Duluth. Right, Y/N?”

Just when you thought he couldn’t hurt you even more, there he went proving you wrong. “Right,” you agreed quietly. You turned a wan smile onto Sam. “I’ll take a raincheck.”

“Duluth?” Sam glanced from his brother to you. “Maybe we can give you a hand on this one.”

“We can’t,” Dean stated firmly. He gave his brother a look and Sam’s brows furrowed before realization played upon his features and his jaw tightened. He turned apologetic hazel eyes onto you. “Donna’s up that way. If she needs a hand, she can call her,” Dean added.

You felt sick to your stomach. Obviously, you weren’t heading to Duluth or anywhere near Minnesota but the way he dismissed you so casually…the pain was overwhelming. The smile you kept on Sam turned into more of a grimace. “I appreciate the offer, Sam, but I’m good. Like your brother said, I can call Donna if I need anything. Don’t worry. Thanks, though.” You squeezed his arm and then turned to make your way up the stairs.

“Best of luck,” Dean gruffed out. You turned to see pure ice staring back at you.

You pressed your lips together to keep from falling apart right there, from demanding why Dean had obviously only called you for sex and a pick-me-up when there plenty of women in Lebanon that could do that for him, from begging him to wake up and see you were right in front of him and that what you had was very much real before it was too late. Instead, you continued climbing the stairs.

“Keep us updated and give us a call if you need anything,” Sam called after you.

“Will do,” you forced out.

“Good luck,” Jack offered.

When you reached the top, you glanced once more at Dean. His expression hadn’t changed one bit. The green gaze staring back at you was cold, hard. You let out a huff and shook your head, turning to open the door and close it behind you. That had been the very last time you saw him.

After that, you went back to the motel you had been renting a room in, packed up, and headed across state lines. You ignored Dean’s calls but took Sam’s.

Apparently, at some point, you had vanished when Chuck disappeared everyone. You had no idea until Donna filled you in. That explained the several missed calls from both Sam and Dean and the voicemails they left. Both had sounded desperate, especially Dean.

“Please, Y/N. I know you’re pissed at me and I get it but please call me back. Or call Sam. I don’t care. Just as long as we know you’re still with us and that you’re okay.” His tone sounded rough around the edges but considering the context Sam gave you when you did call him (there was no way you were calling Dean, especially not now), you realized they were just desperate to get in touch with anyone, having lost Cas and being the only three forms of life left on the planet.

Dean was right, you were angry. Angry that he’d used you that night, angry that he’d broken your heart in the first place. He had pursued you before you got together, not the other way around. By the time you let your guard down enough to let him in and things kicked off between you, he was deep in. Or so he’d said. By the time he ended things, you were deep in yourself. Now…now you were in even deeper thanks to him, so deep you were pretty sure Dean would haunt you the rest of your life no matter how you tried to shut him out of your heart.

Another tear rolled down your cheek. Though, you’d never meant the word haunt literally.

You wiped your face with your sleeve and let out an aggravated breath before getting to your feet. You grabbed your coat, your emergency bag, your hunting bag, and the car keys from the table near the door. You locked up and got into the car you only used for hunts and grocery trips now, starting it and backing out of the driveway.

It’s not that you doubted what Sam had told you or Sam himself, but you needed to see things for yourself. You turned the car in the direction that would lead you to Kansas.

You opened the door to the Bunker, seeing nothing but darkness greeting you, the clanking of the door being the only sound to echo in the large chamber. That was strange. They never shut it down when they left for hunts. You hit the lights and hearing a loud thrumming sound, you watched as they came back on, one by one. You had your own key since you were also a Legacy. You’d never been more thankful for that fact when you arrived to find the Bunker locked down, no Sam in sight.

You shut the door behind you and dropped your bags near the table. You bit your lip to keep your eyes from welling up when you noticed an unfinished chess game on the table, most likely one that Dean and Cas had been engaged in, but now neither of them would be back to complete it. Instead, you focused on the matter at hand. You pulled your gun out and an angel blade, slipping the latter into your coat pocket in case you needed it. In the other pocket, you slipped a flask of holy water and a small piece of iron bar you could wield if need be. In your gun sat silver bullets; you couldn’t be too careful nowadays. Especially if the word was out to the world of the supernatural that Dean Winchester was gone and only Sam was left now, alone.

You slowly made your way down the stairs, listening intently for any other noises you might hear. All that you could make out besides your footsteps was the low hum of electricity that was commonplace for the old bunker. You cleared the library, the hallways, the kitchen, the shower room, the infirmary, the Dean Cave where you’d been forced to watch The Lost Boys and slasher films more times than you cared to count (you had dug your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from crying when you saw the DVD cover of Tombstone left near the TV), every single room in the place until you came to the one that made a lump form in your throat. You swallowed it back down and forced yourself to focus, raising your gun that much higher. You opened the door and hit the lights, scanning every which way. The room was clear.

You lowered your gun and made your way inside, the lump in your throat back again. Your eyes roamed over the hastily made bed; the empty dog bowls on the floor (which made your brows furrow in confusion slightly); the messy desk; the empty beer bottles on the table; the headphones on the nightstand; the shotguns on the wall; the books scattered about; the load of laundry sitting off to the right in a corner. Memories washed over you and your eyes began to sting as tears welled up.

You’d walked into the room to find Dean jamming out on his bed, listening to music through the headphones he’d insisted on buying on your last trip. You huffed out a laugh and dropped the laundry basket of folded clothes onto the bed, garnering his attention.

He opened his eyes and glanced up to find you smiling at him.

“What are you listening to?”

He held one of the phones away from his ear and you could hear some serious strumming of heavy metal guitar coming out of it. “Huh?”

“I said, what are you listening to?” You asked a little louder.

“What?” He nearly yelled.

You picked up the top item from your pile, his Scooby Doo underthings, and playfully tossed it at him. It landed squarely on his chest and he immediately jumped up as if it had burned him, his cheeks turning redder by the second as he threw the headphones onto the bed.

“You did my laundry?” He asked in horror.

Amazing. You two had explored every single inch of each other time and time again, been sort of rooming together for the past month, but he was embarrassed that you washed his dirty underwear?

You shrugged and began to place his folded clothes on the bed. “I had room in the washer so I figured I’d grab yours, too. You’re welcome.”

“You washed our clothes together?” He sounded genuinely surprised.

You gasped and gave him a mock look of horror. “Oh no, not together.” You tossed a pair of jeans over at him and he caught it in time. “I used detergent, fabric softener, dryer sheets, and everything,” you teased. “But putting it away is where I draw the line, pal. That’s on you.” You pointed to the neat pile sitting on the bed before moving over to the door to head to the room you kept your things in down the hall.

Arms wrapped around you from behind, stopping your trek, and Dean murmured into your ear, “You washed my clothes for me?”

“And folded, too,” you pointed out. “Don’t forget that.”

“Mmm, what else can I get you to do for me?” He grabbed the basket from you and placed it down before gripping your hips and moving in to kiss your neck.

“Hey, I’m not your maid. I had room in the washer, that was it. Don’t get used to this,” you laughed before digging your teeth into your lip when you felt his tongue on a particular part of your skin.

“What if I want to get used to this?” He moved up to your jaw line.

“I’d say you’re SOL. Unless…”

“Unless?” He hummed near your lips.

“Unless you finally let me tidy up this room a little.”

His head shot up, frowning down at you. “What? Why, what’s wrong with how it is now?”

“Well,” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Some of these papers on the desk need organizing, the books can be put in a stack on the table over there, these empty beer bottles can be thrown out, the shotguns you have near the bed can be put away…”

“There’s nothing wrong with anything you just mentioned,” he grumbled.

“Oh, really? So the other night when you were doing that thing—”

“That thing you really like,” he interrupted, smirking cockily at you.

You had to keep from rolling your eyes and smirking yourself. “When I moved, I knocked into the shotgun and it fell. It almost went off. You remember that?”

“Nothing happened or went off, well, except you.” His smirk got even bigger. “You remember that?”

This time you gently swatted at his shoulder. “Dean.”

He heard the warning in your no-nonsense tone and laughed, leaning in to kiss you. “Alright,” he whispered to your lips. “I’ll put the shotguns up out of the way. But everything else stays.”

You huffed out an exasperated breath. One of these days when he wasn’t looking, you swore you’d do as exactly as you’d suggested. Clear out the empty bottles and stack the books at the very least.

“Hey, it’s all about compromise, right? Speaking of that,” He turned you around in his arms and you were once again facing the laundry basket he’d left on the floor. “Find a space and keep some of ‘em in here.”

A pleasant shock ran through you. “Are you sure?” You whispered.

He slowly turned you back around and gently cupped your chin. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’m sure. You’re practically sleeping in here every night, anyway. I’d rather you not have to put back on the same clothes from the night before or walk naked down to your room. Then again, naked…”

You glared up at him, making him chuckle and brush his lips against yours. “I just didn’t want to crowd you,” you admitted after a moment. “It’s your space. If I’m in here too much, I can—”

“I want you here.” You gazed into his green eyes, unsure, but all you saw staring back at you was softness with a glint of earnestness. He was telling you the truth; he really wanted you to stay.

“Okay,” you agreed with a shy smile.

He beamed at you and then picked you up, making you gasp loudly and wrap your legs around his waist. “Not that you’re gonna be needing them right now.”

You shook your head and kissed him as he walked you both towards the bed. When he had you on it, you could hear the music coming from the forgotten headphones. “Is that…Whitesnake?”

Dean smirked down at you. “Uh huh. One sec.” He reached over, quickly clicked something on his phone, and the music suddenly changed. You smiled when a familiar song started up.

“Really?”

“What? It’s our song.”

You framed his face with your hands, looking up at him affectionately. “Dean Winchester, secretly sentimental and sensitive guy extraordinaire,” you teased him.

“Shut up,” he mumbled. “I’m not any of that crap. It’s the first song we made good use of Baby’s backseat to, that’s all. Now that you’re staying in here, we gotta celebrate.”

Romantic. You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Like I said, sentimental.” You pulled him down to you and kissed him sweetly. Needless to say, he had been right; you hadn’t needed your clothes for a little while.

You took in a ragged breath, your fingers gently touching over the papers on his desk. While you hated the empty beer bottles and you didn’t want to end up possibly shot with a salt round during a passionate moment of sex, you really hadn’t minded how he had things. You knew this was the first home he and Sam ever really had. He could keep things messy or disorganized if he wanted to; he had more than earned the right. It might sound silly to someone else but he deserved to experience living in a home, mess and all, like everyone did at some point in their lives. Not only did he not have a place to do that since he’d been four years old, he’d never felt comfortably settled in anywhere ever to be able to do it. You remembered him and Sam telling you how long it had taken Dean to settle into this room, to think of the Bunker as not just theirs but home. You’d kick the crap out of anyone who tried to take that away from him, and you would be the last person to try to do it yourself. You still thanked him when he hung the shotguns up on the wall; you were beyond grateful. That time, he was the one who went off and quite happily.

A sob nearly tore its way out of your chest when you saw his handwriting on one of the papers. Your fingertips traced each letter. How could he really be gone?

You ran your fingers over an open file, wondering what he had been looking at, when you heard the clicking of nails on the floor behind you. You spun, lifting your gun, to find Sam standing in the doorway, watching you with wide eyes as a dog appeared beside him. That must have been what you’d heard. You lowered the gun and let out a relieved breath. “What are you doing here?”

You winced internally at your question. He had every right to be here, this was his home. You were the intruder.

“The monitoring system we set up… I was alerted that someone was in the Bunker. I locked it down and I know only he and I had the keys, so I didn’t know if…” You watched as he compulsively swallowed.

You turned back to the desk. “I get that. Where were you, by the way? Why did you lock it down?” He didn’t answer for a moment when you glanced over your shoulder at him, seeing his gaze glued to the ground. “Sam?”

His eyes flicked up to yours and he swallowed again. “I was on my way to Austin. For a case. But then…” He gestured towards you. “I turned around and headed back to see.” You noticed he didn’t mention why he had locked the Bunker down but then again, he didn’t really need to. Who else would be coming here now that Dean, Cas, and Jack were gone? Mary was gone as well as most of the other hunters you’d worked with over the past couple of years. Apocalypse World Bobby was still up in Minnesota somewhere. Apocalypse World Charlie and Stevie had moved East, choosing to retire after what happened with Chuck temporarily disappearing everyone. Garth and Bess still lived in their home with their family. Jody and the girls had their own operation up in Sioux Falls with Donna lending a hand every now and then. And you…well, you never told Sam where you were.

You gave him a slow nod and dropped your eyes back down to the desk, running your fingers over the pages of an open lore book Dean had been reading. It was probably ridiculous but you thought maybe you could somehow still feel him here (though you did not want him to be a ghost), that perhaps by touch or sight or smell even that you could somehow connect to what his last days had been like. You wondered if he somehow knew deep down or if he hadn’t seen it coming. Even though he had always told you that he didn’t see a good ending for himself down the road, that he was forever bound to this life, you knew he also secretly fantasized about his life going in a different direction, one he’d included you in once upon a time. You then wondered if there was a girl somewhere who was either waiting for a phone call she would never get or was crying her eyes out because Sam had given her the news like he had you. It hurt to think that maybe he had found someone that he envisioned another future with instead of you, with someone he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Chuck hadn’t inserted into his life as a manipulation or a story device. Someone that he didn’t question what he had with them, if it was real. Though at the same time, you hoped he found a little piece of happiness. You still loved him enough to want that for him.

You briefly closed your eyes in pain when you remembered that last night you spent with him, telling him you loved him. You truly meant it and even though he hurt you again and again, you still did. You forced the thought away and instead chose to focus on the open book in front of you. “What was he working on?” You choked out, quietly clearing your throat once you heard how rough your voice sounded.

You turned the page, seeing mentions of witches and vampires, when you realized Sam never answered you. You glanced back at him, arching your brows in question.

Sam’s eyes were wide and laser focused on your body, his mouth hanging open. Shit.

You should’ve known that despite the dark clothing you were wearing, the long black coat you were sporting, turning away from him, that you wouldn’t be able to hide your secret much longer. Truthfully, it wasn’t even something you’d thought about when you set out for the bunker. Had Sam been here when you arrived, he probably would have seen it then.

You turned towards the younger Winchester and Sam’s eyes flickered up to you. “Are you…?”

“Yes, Sam.”

Sam closed his mouth and swallowed, glancing back and forth between you and your protruding belly. You read the clear question in his eyes that he was burning to ask.

“You’re going to be an uncle.”

Except the few times he’d been close to death, you’d never seen Sam look so pale.

You and Sam sat on the edge of Dean’s bed, Miracle (as you’d come to find out was the dog’s name) laid at your feet, his head on his paws.

“How?” Sam finally asked you.

You snorted in amusement. “You know how.”

“No, I mean… Why didn’t you tell Dean? Did you tell Dean? Because he didn’t tell me and I don’t think that’s something he wouldn’t have told me.”

You wet your lips with your tongue, feeling the heavy weight of guilt and sadness wrap around you once more. “No. I didn’t tell him,” you whispered. It was now the biggest regret of your life, right before the second biggest one of you walking out of the bunker the morning you’d last seen him and not fighting harder to get him to let you back in.

“Were you ever going to?”

Your eyes snapped to Sam at the judgment clear as day in his tone and they narrowed. “No, I wasn’t. He made it pretty clear he wanted nothing more to do with me or anything related to me. So, no, Sam, I wasn’t,” you snapped.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and looked down at his lap.

You turned your gaze forward again, taking a breath to tamp down the familiar anger and resentment that you’d worked so hard to try to let go of. After a moment, you rubbed at your forehead. “Yes,” you muttered. “I don’t know. I think so…”

Sam stayed quiet and let you sort through your thoughts which you were grateful for. You’d been caught completely off guard by the pregnancy yourself. When you found out, you thought back to how you unwisely didn’t take your usual precautions and since you and Dean had broken up long before that, you hadn’t been too concerned with maintaining your birth control.

You’d thought over your options. Bringing a kid into the hunting lifestyle was the worst thing you could do to it. Dean and Sam were living proof. Their mom herself had known it which was why she tried to get out when she married their dad. Not to mention, it would make you vulnerable in your line of work and the kid would always be in danger, always have a target on its back. Plus, you were pretty sure that even if you told Dean, he’d be less than thrilled. He always told you he didn’t want kids, for the very reasons you were now facing. And did you really want to bring a kid into the world that Chuck was about to end, only to have a father who was dismissive of it, or even hated it? You didn’t think Dean would be capable, he’d been great with Jack and Ben after all, but this was different. This kid would have his blood, his genes, would look like him somewhat. Sure, he had that in Emma once and that had torn him up, but this would also be different. This was for the long haul. And that’s only if he even wanted to be in this kid’s life. Which he might opt not to. How could you do that to your child? So you considered choosing to end the pregnancy, which would have been a true mercy given everything stacked against it before it would be born, but eventually you decided otherwise.

You’d heard the baby’s heartbeat on a checkup while you were still mulling it over, and that was it. Dean wanted to know if what you had was real or not? Here it was, its little heart thumping away deep within your body. After that visit, you’d decided the hell with it. You were someone who believed everything happened for a reason, well before things with Chuck went bad though you still operated on this age-old belief most of the time. You were having a kid, one who would be half of you and half of Dean, the love of your life for all intents and purposes. Though it had hurt when he dismissed you that morning, perhaps this had been the reason why he called you out of the blue, wanting you to come to him, and why you went despite knowing what would most likely happen and how much pain it would cause you.

So you made a decision to start pulling out of hunting. Donna rented her family cabin in Hibbing to you. Bobby hadn’t been back since Mary died so it was sitting empty and unused. You hid the pregnancy as best you could but ultimately, once the first trimester was over and you had popped, you couldn’t hide it anymore. Donna found out though she never knew who the father was. She didn’t pry which you appreciated. When she called you to warn you that Billie was making people disappear left and right, a familiar fear clawed at your chest. Not only fear for your child but also the fear of what if Dean found out about it. That was the only thing that kept you from offering to come down to Kansas to help.

“We’re going into some place warded to protect us. You should do the same. I can send you pictures of the sigils they’re using.”

“Okay, thanks. Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”

“Yeah, don’t you worry. We’ll figure this out. You just stay safe in the cabin. You and…well, you know.”

You appreciated her staying discreet when you heard Sam’s voice in the background. “I will. Thanks, D.”

“You betcha. Talk soon.”

You hung up and Donna did indeed send you the pictures. You did your best with what you had but it didn’t matter in the end. The last thing you remembered was painting a sigil on the window and then everything went black. The next thing you knew, you were back at the window, your finger extended towards the glass, the half-finished sigil staring back at you. You noticed the sun was in a different position in the sky than it had been and you immediately grabbed your cell phone. Two days had passed. How?

It hit you then what happened and you dropped the phone with a cry, immediately grabbing at your stomach. You ran for the machine Jody had shipped to you after Donna told her. At the time you’d been annoyed, but right now, you couldn’t be happier at the sheriff knowing about your pregnancy once your baby’s heartbeat echoed throughout the bedroom. You let out a huge sigh of relief, rubbing your belly affectionately. “We had quite a scare there, didn’t we, kiddo?”

It dawned on you then that while you had vanished, you were back, baby and all. Did that mean everyone else was back, too? You went back downstairs for your cell phone and immediately called Donna. Yep, everyone was back, they had all disappeared, and it wasn’t Billie but Chuck who had done it. You asked after Dean and Sam and that was when she told you about Cas and then Jack. You knew both brothers would be devastated, especially Dean, and you considered breaking your radio silence to call him. However, you chickened out at the last second and called Sam instead to check in.

It’s not that a part of you didn’t want to tell Dean he was going to be a father, it was that you were scared of what would happen when you did. Originally, you had feared that he would turn his back on you completely, more importantly on his kid, but now you were worried that maybe it would be the exact opposite. While you would be happy for him to be actively involved in your child’s life as its dad, you also knew Dean. He would try to resume things between you, make it work for the kid’s sake. Just look at how long he tried to make it work with Lisa for Ben’s sake. Not that he didn’t love her and he ended up leaving to protect them, but even Lisa knew his heart wasn’t in it. While that had been for different reasons involving hunting and Sam’s reappearance in his life, he still tried to make it work. But as he’d told you, the family thing didn’t work for him, and besides he already had a family with Sam, Cas, and Jack. You hadn’t missed how he didn’t include you in that group; you supposed you should’ve known then.

You didn’t want him to fake wanting to be with you just to give your kid some semblance of a family life that Dean himself hadn’t really had. You didn’t know if you could take him forcing himself to kiss you goodnight before turning his back on you every single night. Or forcing a smile when he’d come home after a long day and you were the first thing he saw when he stepped inside. It was a ridiculous fear to have, you knew that, and you should be stronger than this — you were stronger than this. Not to mention, you knew you were being selfish and not at all fair to your baby or Dean. But the images kept replaying over and over in your mind, making you flinch, and you told yourself you’d tell him the next day. The next day turned into next week, then the next month. Before you knew it, you were in your third trimester and you were getting a call from his younger brother to inform you of his untimely death.

Maybe that’s really why you raced down here from Hibbing. Maybe that’s why you wanted to see for yourself that he was gone. Not only to confirm that the man who had your heart was gone for good, but also so you could tell him, hoping he might hear it wherever he now was. Or maybe by some act of mercy Jack could relay it to him, wherever Jack was. It was cowardly, you were a coward, and you hated yourself for it. You knew you should have told Dean months ago, after you found out that he and Sam had beaten Chuck, Jack was in charge of the universe now, and the world was not coming to an end anytime soon. Regardless, you couldn’t turn back the clock.

A tear escaped that you quickly wiped away, not caring if Sam saw or not. “You know, when you first told me about Dean, I considered a demon deal.”

Sam’s head snapped up. “No! That’s not what he would want! No!”

You held out a placating hand. “I know. I’m not going to do that.” He seemed to deflate slightly in relief. “I can’t, anyway.” You motioned to your bulging stomach. “I couldn’t do that to my kid. Only be around for 10 years and then poof, I’m gone? Even if it had Dean, if Dean wanted it that is, it’s still terrible to do that to a kid.” You winced slightly when you realized you were saying this to Sam Winchester of all people.

“Dean would’ve wanted it,” he assured you quietly.

You grimaced and dropped your gaze down to the dog who was staring up at you. “Maybe.” You reached down to pet his head.

Sam placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “He would’ve.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, thinking over his words, when you murmured, “Is there any way to get him back?”

Sam let you go and his hazel eyes began to shimmer. “No,” he choked out. “I, uh, checked with Jack and he said it was his time. So…no.”

“What?” You snapped, getting to your feet. “After everything you’ve done for that kid? He just—”

Sam got to his feet, tenderly cradling your shoulders. “I know. I didn’t want to hear it either but…Jack’s right.” Your jaw dropped, ready to let some f-bombs fly (which you usually tried to avoid since the baby could now hear you), when Sam’s hands moved up to your face, trying to get you to listen. “He was ready to go. Jack confirmed it. Dean’s in Heaven and he’s at peace.”

Tears were on the edge of falling when you heard that. “He’s in Heaven?”

Sam nodded, a tear making its way down his cheek. “Yeah. He is.”

If Dean was in Heaven…well, then that was some consolation at least. Just when he thought he’d never make it there thanks to his being a demon for a short stint, being killed by a Hell Hound, and everything that had occurred over the years — even some of the things he’d done. But that also meant he was gone, for good this time. It was confirmed; he wasn’t coming back. It hit you like a freight train and it punched a huge hole in your chest. You felt as if you were falling, falling, and would never stop. Dean was…gone. “Then he’s…”

“He’s gone,” Sam confirmed. “He’s not coming back.”

Your knees buckled and you nearly fell, Sam thankfully having caught you. You heard a wailing sound but you had no idea where it was coming from until you felt it ripping its way out of your body. Sam gingerly picked you up in his arms and moved you onto the bed. You were violently sobbing and you barely noticed Sam holding you, gently rocking you back and forth, his own tears falling into your hair. Miracle had jumped up and laid next to you, whining quietly and trying to shove his head under your hands, rubbing his body carefully against your belly.

There was no way. No way that this was real. This had to be a nightmare. But when you heard Sam sniffle above you, choking out, “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. I promise, it’s going to be okay,” you knew that it wasn’t. Memories of Dean’s face, his laugh, his smiles, his touch, his scent, the way he looked at you when you’d both been happy together, his kisses, the way he felt like home in a way that no other person or place ever could, the way he made you feel safe — all of it smashed over you like a tidal wave and it didn’t let up. Dean Winchester, the man you’d loved with all of your heart, the man whose child you now carried inside of you, was gone. And there was nothing you could do to bring him back.

Dean had just pulled the Impala over at a beautiful spot, where you could see nature’s beauty for miles. He rested back against Baby and marveled at it all. There was even a double rainbow that showed up and Dean chuckled, knowing that had to be Jack’s doing considering there hadn’t been any rain. Then he wondered if it did rain at all. How did things like that work up here anyhow?

He was still enjoying the view when Jack popped in next to him.

“There he is.” Dean grinned and went to give him a hug before he thought better of it. “Am I still allowed to…you know?”

Jack smiled. “Of course. I like hugs.”

Dean laughed and embraced him tightly. “Thanks, kid. For everything you did up here, I mean. Bobby told me.” He pulled back, clapping his shoulder in thanks. “So, where’s Cas?”

“He’ll be along shortly but first, I need to show you something.”

Dean’s brows furrowed but he shrugged. “Okay.”

Jack placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder and next thing Dean knew, he was back in his old room at the Bunker. “Whoa,” he whispered, thinking Jack and Cas had built the Bunker just for him. He would be able to wait for Sam here, in his home. He hoped the TV in the Dean Cave worked and that he still had access to his music. Baby’s radio had worked so he had high hopes. He was about to thank Jack when his eyes suddenly caught sight of someone in his bed. Well, two someones.

He glanced towards Jack who gave him a subtle nod, silently encouraging him to get closer. Dean shot him a confused look but did move closer. When he caught sight of you, his heart dropped into his stomach. Even being dead, he felt the same exact thing he felt the last time he had seen you. You were the one who got away, or more appropriately, the one he pushed away.

Sure, he’d been confused when he found out everything in his life was a lie when Chuck revealed himself to be a giant dick, but he did love you. He had such trouble reconciling the two: what he knew to be true and what his mind was telling him. No other romantic relationship had worked out for him, all two of them prior to you, and now he knew why. Chuck liked him better on his own, being the guy with no strings attached and rolling through town to save the girl, kill the monsters, get thanked, and move on his way. The only other person Chuck liked having in the Impala regularly was Sam. You, well, you he hadn’t seen coming and after the Big Bad Chuck reveal, he had to wonder why.

He had never meant to hurt you, though he couldn’t seem to stop from doing it. If things weren’t real between you all of this time, he didn’t want to keep pretending like they were. That wasn’t fair to either of you and he certainly didn’t want to continue stringing you along when his heart was no longer in it like it used to be. So he let you go, as painful as it was and as wrong as it felt, he did the right thing by you. Then that night he’d called you out of the blue, he’d been torn up about Cas’ revelations about Jack’s actual role in Billie’s plan, how badly he wanted Chuck gone, and how while he didn’t want to sacrifice the kid, he wanted his and Sam’s freedom more. Without thinking, he’d picked up the phone and dialed you. He shocked himself when he asked you to come over after hearing you weren’t that far away, and you shocked him even more when you agreed.

Dean hadn’t planned for you two to be intimate, but once you were there, right in front of him, it hit him hard how much he missed you, missed what you had together. So he made a move and you let him. He’d put everything he had, everything he felt but couldn’t tell you, into this stolen moment in time between you. And then the next morning, he thought it had all been a dream until he turned his head and saw you laying there, hair adorably disheveled, sheet covering you, doing something on your phone. It briefly reminded him of the many mornings he’d woken to find you in this exact same position, already up after a wild night, searching for cases. He wanted to bask in the comfort and familiarity for a moment longer, but when you turned and smiled at him, greeting him like you always had, he started kicking himself internally. He didn’t want you to think that this meant things would change when he knew they wouldn’t. He was being unfair to you and it wasn’t right. He’d been a selfish bastard and now he had to go into dick mode which would hurt you again. And sure enough, he knew he did when he saw your face fall as he easily dismissed you, not once but twice. He winced at the memory; he certainly didn’t blame you for not taking his calls or returning his voicemails after that.

The truth was that while he had initially been confused about his feelings for you and their validity, he knew he cared deeply about you and the most important thing was keeping you safe. He didn’t want you involved in the Chuck showdown, which is why he rudely dismissed you that morning, making up an excuse of a case in Duluth, something he knew you’d go along with. After watching you leave, as the door closed behind you, his heart fell into his stomach and he felt about three inches tall. He hated hurting you, hated pushing you away, but he knew it was for the best. You needed to be safe; not a target for Chuck.

After Chuck had been defeated and Jack took over, Dean realized in those months that he’d been a grade A idiot when it came to you. Sure, he’d been a cold dick, but he also had been a complete dumbass. He still loved you and he missed the hell out of you. What you had together had been something special that he stupidly threw away. There were quite a few nights after quite a few drinks, he’d picked up his phone and hovered over your number but he never actually called it. How could he even think of asking you to forgive him and give him another chance? After everything he’d said and done? He truly was a selfish bastard.

When he didn’t call, he then switched over to all of the photos and videos he had taken of you and both of you together. As he heard your laughter, saw both of your smiles, watched how you looked at him and the affection you’d shown him, he continued drowning his sorrows. He wanted so much to talk to you, to apologize and explain, and ask if he could come see you, but he never let himself ask. He didn’t deserve it; he knew that.

Now, here you were, asleep on his bed, Miracle curled up next to you. Staring down at you, he wondered how the hell he had ever let you go. And now, he’d never get to hold you again, feel your touch, or even share a conversation with you ever again. Even though Dean was at peace with his fate, regret languished within his chest the more he studied your face. He reached out to brush some hair back over your face but sadness overwhelmed him when he realized he couldn’t even do that small simple touch. Not anymore.

Dean’s eyes narrowed when he noticed an arm curled around you, almost protectively, pinning you to another body. His gaze traveled up that arm to find his younger brother, asleep right behind you. That surprised him but he quickly put two and two together. You must have gone to the Bunker when Sam called you to tell you the news and here you were, in Dean’s room, asleep on his bed with his dog. And while he didn’t begrudge you or his little brother some comfort you both might need, he didn’t like the look of that embrace or that Sam’s face was buried into the back of your neck.

Dean glanced back down at the arm, seeing Miracle staring right up at him. He couldn’t help but smile at the canine who had been his companion for months before he died. “Hey, boy,” he whispered, not sure if he would be heard or not but not wanting to startle you if he was. “How are you?”

Miracle didn’t seem to react at first, not until he got up and moved closer, wagging his tail. Dean went to try to pet the dog, hoping he could at least touch the animal, but he never got that far. His eyes zeroed in on just what Miracle’s body had been blocking.

His wide eyes flicked up to you, to Sam, back to you, and back to your fairly large and round stomach. The hell with being heard and possibly scaring you two. He glanced back to find Jack watching him. “What the hell is going on here, Jack?”

“They’re sleeping.”

“I’m aware of that,” he growled. “But what—”

Just then, Cas popped in next to Jack. When the angel saw Dean, he offered a soft smile. Dean felt himself relax slightly and a part of him wanted to go hug the angel but another part of him was nervous to. Plus, he really wanted to know what the hell was going on. He shifted his eyes towards Jack, his jaw tightening. “What the hell are you showing me?”

Cas glanced towards the bed, realization lighting his features, before he turned to Jack as well.

“The present,” Jack simply answered.

Dean cursed under his breath, not caring that both Cas and Jack could hear him. “The present of what? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like some time has passed.” He gestured towards your stomach. He tried not to be angry with you or Sammy, he really did, but dammit, his brother knew how he felt about you! Him dying didn’t change that! Besides, Sam had something going with Eileen last he knew, whatever happened to that?

“What you’re seeing is a few days after your death.”

Surprise ran through Dean at that revelation. So, this wasn’t some screwed up future scene he was witnessing? His eyes roamed over you, coming to rest once again on your stomach. You were very pregnant, looking as if you might be ready to pop any day now, he wasn’t sure. But one thing was clear; there was no way the baby was Sam’s. Sam wouldn’t have been able to keep that secret from him that long and he just didn’t see you or Sam going behind his back like that while he was alive. You were pissed at him, maybe even hated him, but you would never do that to him. Nor would Sam. The only answer was that you had found someone else and you were starting a family with them. Now he understood your radio silence even more. You might currently be sad at the news of his death, awash in memories in his room to where you’d fallen asleep on his bed and Sam had to comfort you, but you had truly moved on. That burned him even more. While he was happy if you were happy, knowing you’d found someone who wouldn’t break your heart and would treat you better than he ever could, a part of him was saddened by this knowledge. He knew you were too good for him, that you deserved better, but to see it confirmed in such a way, well, it was heartbreaking.

“So if she’s… Then she’s…” He couldn’t even put it into words; it hurt too much.

Jack clasped Dean’s shoulder. “The child is yours, Dean.”

Dean wasn’t alive anymore but if he had been, his heart would have stopped. He turned to Jack, shocked. “What?”

“You’re going to be a father,” Jack supplied, letting him go.

“But…how?” Dean’s gaze fell on you once more.

Cas suddenly appeared on his other side. “You don’t remember how you conceived the child?”

“What? No, I just…”

“Dean,” Jack called.

When he turned to look at the new God, the latter held up a glowing finger to him that almost reminded him of that movie E.T. “What are you gonna do with that? Check my temperature?” Speaking of E.T., hadn’t that been one of the last movies picked for movie night before the Chuck showdown?

Jack smiled and touched the finger to his forehead. Within seconds, Dean was reliving every single moment between you two:

…When you’d met.

…When he decided he’d liked you while you decided you didn’t like him too much.

…His constant flirting and trying to win you over.

…Your begrudging friendship that then grew into something more.

…Your relationship.

…Your breakup.

…All of the times you’d been in pain because of him.

…That last night.

…The next morning.

Then the memories shifted to yours from after that morning:

…You finding out about the pregnancy a couple of months later.

…Your hemming and hawing over calling him to tell him.

…Your fears.

…When you’d vanished with everyone else.

…Your panic upon your reappearance.

…The time you spent getting ready to retire from hunting and set up a normal life in Hibbing while preparing for the baby.

…The call from Sam with the news of his death.

…Your regret at not telling him about his child and your drive down here.

…Your conversation with Sam.

…Your collapsing in grief at finally realizing that he was gone and not coming back.

All of it that led to the scene he was witnessing now. He felt everything you felt, heard every thought, saw every tear, every smile.

By the time Jack pulled away, Dean’s eyes were wet. He wasn’t sure how he was able to produce tears as a dead man but he did. Not only did he feel how deeply he’d hurt you, but he also felt just how deeply you loved him. He already knew he’d been an idiot when it came to you, but he really had no clue before this just how incredibly stupid he’d been. It had always been real between you. That hadn’t been Chuck. Not by a long shot.

Dean discreetly wiped his eyes. “Send me back.” His tone was firm and he wasn’t really asking.

“I’m sorry, Dean, but your time on Earth is up.”

Dean turned a menacing glare onto Jack. New God or not, he didn’t care. “She’s having my kid and she needs me. They both need me. Sam, too. After everything I’ve done for this world, you owe me.” Jack stared him down, unbothered by the taller man’s attempt to make demands. “Now I appreciate the Fixer Upper: Heaven Edition, I really do, but I should be with them. I deserve a shot at this and you know it.”

Jack mused on that for a moment before staring up at Dean sadly. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that.”

Dean scoffed. “Then why bother showing me any of this? Why bother telling me that it’s my kid she’s about to have? What’s the point, dammit?”

“You were afraid that you had left nothing behind of value, except Sam and your beloved car. Afraid that your life hadn’t amounted to anything in the end. No matter how many people you saved, no matter how many connections you made, no matter what good you did. ” Jack gestured towards you. “It did amount to something. You are leaving behind something, something important. A legacy,” Jack gestured to your stomach. “A family,” he waved his hand over you and Sam.

Dean’s jaw clenched and he ignored the stinging in the corner of his eyes. “So this was just to show me what I can never have. The girl, the kid, the life…that’s just aces,” he muttered.

“No, Dean,” Cas spoke up. “What Jack is trying to explain is—”

“--your life amounted to more than you thought it had,” Jack finished.

Dean watched as Miracle went back and curled up against your belly once more, his head on his paws as he watched the scene in front of him. The corner of Dean’s lips tipped up into a smile. It was almost as if the dog knew it was his kid in there. And he was determined to protect it in Dean’s absence. His smile faded though when he thought of how he wouldn’t be able to see his kid, at all. He’d had enough of this. “That’s great. Appreciate the pep talk, fellas. Now, if you could send me back so I can actually raise my legacy and take care of my family, that’d be much appreciated.”

Jack and Cas exchanged a glance. Dean knew he wasn’t winning this one but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep trying. “It’s not your time yet,” Jack answered cryptically.

Dean’s head snapped in his direction. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that now your time is in Heaven, not Earth. And it’s best if you return to it.” Before Jack could snap his fingers, Dean held up a hand.

“Whoa, wait! That’s it? You’re not even gonna let me stick around to see what I’m gonna have?”

Jack smiled once more. “You’re going to have a son. A strong, healthy son.”

Dean reeled from that information. “A son?” He choked out.

Jack gave him a happy nod and held his fingers up again.

“Wait, wait! I’m serious, Jack. Why can’t I stick around?”

“You know what happens to ghosts, Dean. Besides, you’ve already been admitted to Heaven.”

“But you can do something about that, right? Like bring me back?” When Jack didn’t respond, Dean became desperate. “At least let me check in on them every now and then or something! You’re telling me you can’t even do that? You’re freaking God!”

Jack’s smile faded. “You’re not an angel, Dean.”

“No,” Cas interrupted. “But I am.” Cas stretched out his wings that were a lot brighter than Dean remembered. If he wasn’t dead, he was pretty sure he would at they very least be blinded from the brightness right about now. “I can take him back when he’s ready and I can escort him on any future visits.”

Dean was shocked but also beyond grateful at Cas’ offer. While they hadn’t spoken yet about how things were left between them before The Empty took away the angel, he couldn’t imagine it would be easy for Cas to watch as he pined over someone else, as he watched his kid grow, but Dean was grateful all the same.

Jack appeared to think this over before meeting Cas’ intent gaze. “You will make sure to bring him back each time.” At Cas’ nod, Jack gave him a knowing yet affectionate smile. “I expect you to keep to the rules during these visits.”

“Of course,” Cas agreed.

Jack then glanced over at Dean. “If you’re worried about her and your child, you don’t need to be. Sam is going to watch over them.” Dean’s eyes widened slightly and his head snapped in your direction, his eyes shifting to Sam’s arm around you.

“What the hell does that mean?” He demanded.

“It means that your family is going to be safe. They’re going to stick together. Sam is going to help Y/N raise your son. He won’t allow any harm to come to them.”

His jaw tightened, thinking it should be his arm over you, him behind you, him helping you raise your kid, you two together. He should be the one to take his son fishing, teach him about girls when he got older, show him how to keep Baby going, be the father his old man had the potential to be but minus a few things. He’d do whatever it took to keep the kid out of hunting, to give him a shot at a full happy life. He’d give up hunting himself in order to make it happen. And you…if you’d take him back, he’d never leave your side. Hell, he’d marry you if you let him. After Jack had caught him up to speed on everything you went through, everything you had felt and were feeling, he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to you, letting you know every single day just how much he loved you, if only you’d let him. If only Jack would allow him to come back. It felt beyond wrong that he wasn��t there and Sam was stepping into his place. Sam shouldn’t have to; he should be able to go and build his own family with Eileen or whoever, get married, have a couple of kids, buy a house, get out of hunting and go back to school — do whatever he wanted with his life. Not this.

“Dean.”

His eyes slowly lifted to Jack’s, who was a lot closer now than he had been before. He laid a reassuring hand on the man’s shoulder. “It’s as it should be. After you died, Sam was lost. She’s going to need help when the child is born.” He stared at Dean meaningfully. “They all need this.”

Dean’s gaze briefly roamed over the three of you on the bed before landing on Jack again. He thought back to his cryptic words from before. “Will I ever meet my kid? Get to see her again? Outside of Heaven?”

Jack’s expression didn’t change nor did he say anything but he squeezed his shoulder. That was the only response Dean was going to get apparently.

Dean huffed a snort and shook his head.

“I told you, Dean. There would be no more meddling with the world from on high. I will not repeat Chuck’s mistakes. Everything is as it should be.”

Dean’s jaw clenched and he dropped his gaze. No, everything wasn’t as it should be. He made up his mind then to talk to Bobby when he got back. There had to be something he could do to get back to Earth, to get back to you and Sam and the baby…to get back to you all. If he couldn’t convince Jack to send him back, he’d find some other way.

Jack released him as Cas came to stand next to Dean. “I’ll see you back in Heaven.” He then looked at Cas. “Not too long.”

Cas gave him a nod and like that, Jack disappeared, leaving the angel and the hunter alone. Dean wasn’t thinking about how that might have set them up to talk about Cas’ last words to him before dying; right now, his focus was on you.

“Cas, please…can I touch her?”

“Dean…”

“Please,” he begged. “Just one last time. I’m not gonna get to be with her or raise my kid. I just want to touch her one last time. Please, Cas.”

Cas thought it over and then moved closer to the bed, leaning down to place two fingers against your forehead. Dean’s brows furrowed when he noticed a golden glow appear from the touch. “Whoa, whoa, Cas. What are you doing?”

“I’m giving you what you asked for. Y/N’s a light sleeper, like all of you hunters. If she wakes up, she could think she’s being attacked by a ghost or some other entity. I doubt you want that.” He pulled away and gave Dean a look.

“No,” Dean quietly agreed. Cas moved away to make room to let him in. Dean gingerly sat on the bed, about to touch you when he glanced up at the angel, unsure. Cas gave him a nod and Dean turned to gently run the backs of his fingers down your cheek. He felt your warm and soft skin this time when he came into contact with you and he let out a small breath of relief, sadness filling his chest.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Had I known, I would’ve…” He supposed it didn’t really matter what he would’ve done. “I should’ve been there. You shouldn’t have had to go through all this alone. I should be there with you now, ready to help you take care of the kid. I…” He tenderly moved your hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted to hurt you, but I had to keep you safe. I didn’t want you to become a target for Chuck. And I never should’ve…” He could feel a familiar stinging at the corners of his eyes and he wasn’t surprised that his voice was a bit gruffer when he next spoke. “I knew what we had was real. I know I questioned it for a second there but I always knew. That’s why it was so important to me that you were safe. But it doesn’t make what I did and said okay. And I’m sorry for that.” He ran his fingers lightly over your lips, wishing he could kiss you one last time, feeling you kissing him back. “I love you,” he whispered, a single tear falling down his cheek that he hastily wiped away. He stroked the apple of your cheek tenderly with his thumb. “And I always will.”

Not really wanting to pull away from you but knowing he was on a time clock, he reluctantly moved his fingers away from your face and laid his hand on your belly. He couldn’t feel anything except the taut skin underneath his fingertips, but it was enough to make him smile. “Being that you’re my kid, you’re probably going to give your mom a run for her money. Try not to make her too crazy, huh?” He let out a watery sounding laugh. “I’m sorry I can’t be there but your Uncle Sammy is going to make sure you and your mom are taken care of. Okay? He’s going to show you how to toss a ball around, help you with your homework, all that stuff. Just do me a favor, though. Don’t let him feed you kale the whole time and don’t let him get you into his true crime podcasts. The guy is a classic nerd, don’t let him turn you into one, too.” His smile slowly faded. “Saying all that, he’s one of the best guys I've ever known and I know he’ll be good to you, be good to your mom. So cut him some slack when you get older, alright?” He rubbed his thumb in gentle circles. “Take care of your mom for me. I’ll be watching over both of you. I hope I get to meet you someday.” Unable to resist, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your stomach before sitting up and coming face to face with Miracle. The dog quietly whined and Dean gave him one last good head scratch. “You look out for them, okay buddy?” The dog whined again and Dean patted him.

“Dean,” Cas gently called.

Dean nodded and slowly got to his feet. His eyes shifted to Sam who was sound asleep, giving him a soft smile. “Thanks for taking care of them, Sammy,” he whispered. He didn’t vocalize that it was only temporary, that he was hell bent and determined to find a way to get back. His eyes then landed on you and he reached out to you one last time, trailing a fingertip along the dried tear tracks on your cheek. “Cas, can we just stay until they wake up?”

“Dean, Jack said—”

“I know what Jack said,” Dean snapped, glancing back at the angel whose parted lips pressed into a thin line. Dean immediately felt sorry for snapping at him; it wasn’t Cas’ fault and he wasn’t angry with him. He softened his tone. “I just want to be here when she wakes up. That’s all.” Cas seemed to be wrestling with his request. “Please, Cas,” he begged. “I just want to see her like this, awake.” He was slightly embarrassed at admitting that to his best friend but he wasn’t sure when he’d be allowed to visit again (and what he might be able to figure out to get himself back or how long it would take), and he had the strongest urge to see you up and about, walking around, pregnant with his kid. Not to mention he wanted to hear your voice one last time. “Please,” he whispered in a broken plea.

Cas stared at him for a moment before giving him a nod. “But after she wakes, we go back.”

“Thank you, Cas.” He meant it. While he highly doubted Cas would get into any real trouble on his behalf, he knew how difficult it must be for the angel to unwillingly push against Jack’s rules. Dean turned back to you, carefully sitting down next to you, caressing your face. “Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured. He also made you a silent promise: he would do whatever it took to get back to you. His eyes briefly roamed to your stomach. To get back to both of you. Fate and the universe and all that crap be damned.

547 notes · View notes

thebiggerbear · 4 months

Text

Beau Arlen - Prompt Response - "Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Summary: Your house is broken into one night when Beau wasn't home and now you find yourself expecting it to happen again at any moment. Will you ever feel safe in your home again?

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Female!Reader; Beau Arlen x Female!Lawyer Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. My brain immediately settled on this idea when I decided to respond to this prompt from more than one character. It just seemed to fit. Hope this is alright.

A huge thank you to my beta Em for her services. You rock, girl!

Warnings: mentions of break-in, mentions of guns, mentions of possible violence scenarios, implied possible assault scenario

Word Count: 4030

Beau Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

<-->

You checked and rechecked the locks on the windows of your upstairs bedroom. You’d never admit it aloud, but you were nervous and on edge.

The other night, Beau had had to work late due to some case that had dropped into his lap near the end of the work day. When he’d called, all apologetic, you’d told him it was no problem. You lived with a lawman so you knew how it could go sometimes, and you knew to adjust accordingly. The simple solution? You ordered takeout and decided to indulge in some wine and Netflix.

Once you’d finished half of the newest season of Virgin River, you decided it was time for bed. Sadly, Beau had gotten so tied up with the same case and wouldn’t be home for a few more hours, and that was only if he was lucky. You made sure both doors were locked, turned the lights off, and headed upstairs. At one point, you smiled to yourself at the thought of perhaps waiting to get into bed before calling your cowboy and enticing him to lock himself away in his office or car for a bit.

You had just finished your nightly routine, slipped on the silkiest nightgown you owned, and crawled onto the bed. You positioned yourself as best as you could, smiled as you flipped over to Beau’s contact picture, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. You were just about to facetime the sheriff, hoping he would move away from anyone he was around to answer it, when you heard a sudden breaking of glass downstairs.

You froze, your heart pounding and a part of you wondering if the wine glass you’d left on the counter had fallen off. Then you heard it again. This time a larger volume of glass broke and it was obvious that there was force behind it. You knew then that someone was trying to break into your house. Your mind began to race; to outsiders, your house gave all the tell-tale signs that its owner was home, moving about and/or possibly asleep. Whoever was downstairs was making a lot of noise, and if someone intentionally broke into a house that was clearly occupied, it could only mean one thing.

You jumped off the bed and ran to the closet, speedily entering in the combo for Beau’s gun safe. You grabbed the gun, made sure it was loaded, and hurried to close the bedroom door, hitting the lock. You swiped your cell phone off the bed and called 911, huddling in a corner that couldn’t be seen right away from the door should someone bust in. You kept the gun pointed at the door as you quietly gave the dispatcher your address and all the info needed. You remained on the call with them until the police arrived in record time.

Beau hadn’t been too far behind them, Poppernak having heard the call come through and letting him know immediately. You were in a robe and a pair of Uggs you had thrown on quickly, talking to the responding officers, when your boyfriend pulled up, jumping out of Pedro and running right over to you. He gathered you up in his arms and lifted you off the ground. “Thank God,” he whispered, holding you to him. After a moment, he gently placed you back on your feet and cupped your face, studying you intently. “Are you alright?”

You nodded, still not fully able to speak. The adrenaline was still running rampant through your body, yet fear and shock were slowly starting to make their presence known as well.

He gave you a tender smile and pulled you in for a hug, holding your body against him in a way to further reassure you that everything was alright. And if it wasn’t, you knew he would do everything in his power to make it so.

The officers had taken your statement and assessed the damage, but the suspects had gotten away before the cops showed up. That’s right, suspects — as in plural. Your neighbor across the street, Melanie Layton, had seen them running down the street to the soundtrack of police sirens getting closer; said persons then disappeared in a car that she didn’t know the make or model of, nor could she make out the vehicle’s color. She had just pulled into her driveway, having finished a long evening shift at the nursing home she worked at, and between the darkness and her own exhaustion, she hadn’t been able to really see much of what had happened.

That evening, Beau brought you out to the camper he kept even though he’d moved in with you four months prior. His reasoning had been that you two could take a break from the town should you ever need it, and that night, you’d never been more grateful for his thinking ahead. He stayed in bed with you until you fell asleep. and when you woke up in the middle of the night to find him not in the camper, you quickly discovered that he was sitting outside in one of the deck chairs, sipping coffee and cradling a shotgun in his lap.

He’d given you a smile when you stepped outside. “I didn’t wake you, did I, darlin’?”

You crossed your arms and inclined your head towards the gun. “What’s that for?”

He shrugged. “I just feel better having it handy is all.”

“So you’ve got a shotgun while you’re sitting on the porch.” You sat down in the chair next to him, flashing him a smile of your own. “What’s next? Yelling at kids to get off your lawn?”

He didn’t laugh at your teasing like you’d expected him to. Instead, he held out a hand to you and you took it. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, sweetheart.”

“Beau, you had to work. It’s okay.”

Beau let out a heavy sigh and lowered the shotgun safely to the ground with his other hand before pulling you over to sit with him. “No, it ain’t. I should have let Hoyt handle that case and I should have been home with you.”

You weren’t quite sure what to say. You knew it wasn’t his fault, of course, and how could it be? Still, a part of you was still coming down from earlier and your thoughts were running rampant. What if the suspects had come through the bedroom door? What if you’d had to shoot one — or both? Worse, what if you had frozen up and they came upstairs to find you all alone, defenseless and in a vulnerable position? What if you hadn’t even heard them and you were facetiming Beau when they found you? What if you had been able to convince Beau to go somewhere private for a few and you had been in the middle of—

You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting that thought to go any further, and instead laid your head on Beau’s shoulder. He kissed your forehead and rubbed soothing circles into your back.

“We’re going to get through this,” he quietly reassured you.

You opened your eyes and nodded. “We will. I know we will.”

A sweet smile formed on his face and he grabbed the blanket that had been wrapped around him and carefully wrapped it around both of you. You had snuggled into him and he pressed a kiss to your hair before laying his head on top of yours, holding you close. You had stayed like that for the rest of that night.

Presently, the police still hadn’t been able to find the suspects even though they checked street cams, traffic cams, canvassed the neighbors, and even took another run at Melanie in case she remembered anything more from that night. At first they tried to dismiss it as most likely two young guys high on meth looking for an easy score, but after one glare from Beau, the detectives assigned to your case cleared their throats and assured you they’d delve deeper. You had been asked to come up with a list of anyone that might be less than pleased with you and, being a county attorney that worked the Criminal Division, that list was bound to be long. You’d even had to think back to your time in Bozeman. Still, nothing panned out. The cops literally had nothing to go on, but they said they would keep you updated about any new developments that came up.

Beau hadn’t left your side for the first two days, electing to have his undersheriff delegate any new cases that came in and handle anything that he usually would. You both had stayed in the AirStream since you weren’t ready to go back home yet. He’d cooked for you, made you laugh, he’d taken you out and about to get your mind off things, and he’d held you close at night. He kept his gun next to the bed as an added means of making you feel safe, but you already felt safer just being with him and being out of that house. Feeling better or not, however, that didn’t mean you didn’t have your moments. When a server had accidentally dropped a glass at the diner Beau had taken you to for breakfast, you had nearly launched out of your seat with how high you’d jumped. Some young guy had stared at you a little too long as you and Beau walked down the sidewalk, and you immediately moved into your boyfriend and dug your fingers into his side when you passed the stranger. You didn’t feel comfortable being anywhere alone in town, feeling as if the moment you were, someone would either grab you, attack you, or hurt you then and there, and you wouldn’t see it coming. You were beyond grateful that you were allowed to conceal and carry, and you were even more thankful that your father had made sure you knew how to hunt, fish, and, most importantly, shoot by your eleventh birthday.

You knew what was happening and why you felt the way you did. You’d dealt with this situation enough in your job — you’d spoken with enough victims of burglaries and home invasions — so you knew the break-in had rattled you. You hated it; being scared of your own shadow wasn’t you, yet you couldn’t help how you were feeling even with Beau as a constant reassurance at your side.

You really appreciated the careful attention he was paying you; after dropping you off for a visit with Cassie and Denise, a visit that was much-needed and much-enjoyed, he’d even replaced the back door that the would-be thieves had busted in their haste to get inside. There had been a beautiful back door with multiple panes of glass that allowed the sunlight in to brighten up the kitchen each morning, one of the features of the house that had you signing a lease two years ago when you’d moved back to town. What was broken had been replaced by an even nicer door that still allowed your kitchen to have that beautiful golden-hour glow, and the sheriff himself had installed it, locks and everything. Overall, Beau had been amazing and supportive, truly there for you without you needing to ask him to be. But eventually, after a few days, he did have to return to work and so did you.

He’d had Jenny do a walk-through of the house with the both of you on your first night back. They both made sure all of the locks were working and Beau showed you the new alarm that had been installed as well as cameras on both entryways — everything was secure. Jenny had even posted a deputy outside your house for your first night.

But here you were, obsessively checking every entry point into your bedroom, the place that had served as your safe haven up until the other night. The aluminum bat that you’d purchased was placed next to the bed and you made sure your phone was fully charged in case you needed to call 911 again. You confirmed you had a full clip in your gun that was sitting on your nightstand. Beau had come in some time ago and watched your every movement as he got ready for bed. Only when you checked the locks on the window for the sixth time in your circuit did he slowly approach you.

“Honey, we’re sealed up tight. No one’s getting in without us knowing about it. Plus, Poppernak’s sitting outside. We’re good.” He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you from behind. “Why don’t you come to bed?” He whispered huskily into your ear.

Any other night, you wouldn’t have needed to be asked twice, but this wasn’t any other night. “Did you make sure the alarm was set?”

He carefully turned you in his arms to face him, cupping your chin and lifting your eyes to meet his. “We’re safe, sweetheart. I promise.”

“I know, I just—”

“We’re safe,” he reiterated, brushing your hair back behind your ear.

You nodded and let out a deep breath. “I know. I’m just…” You struggled to get the words out. “They picked us.” At Beau’s furrowing of his brows, you elaborated: “Out of all the houses on this block they could’ve picked, they picked ours. They knew someone was home. How many cases have you worked where the suspects broke in while someone was in the house and that someone didn’t get hurt? I’m not talking run-ins, I’m talking purposeful breaking and entering, fully knowing someone was there. Because the cases I’ve had where that happens don’t usually have a happy ending.”

Beau mulled over your words for a moment, licking his lips as he tended to do when he was nervous or was about to spout some of that wisdom of his. Given the subject at hand, you knew it had to be the latter.

He framed your face with his hands and stared into your eyes. “Honey, we’re gonna find them. Okay? Helena PD is looking everywhere and so are we. We’re turning over every rock, checking out every possible place they could be.”

“But we don’t even know who they are,” you pointed out.

“No,” he agreed. “But we have a description to go on. If they risked breaking in like they did, not caring who heard or saw, then they’re bound to make the same mistake again. It’s only a matter of time.”

“So someone else could get hurt before they’re finally caught?”

His brows began to furrow as he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs. “Sure hope not. But I promise you, we’re gonna find them. Soon they’ll be in jail where they belong, and in the meantime, you’re safe.”

You scoffed and pulled away from him. You knew he was just trying to help, to reassure you, but your nerves were frayed — had been fraying since the break-in. “You can’t promise that, Beau, no one can. What happens the next time you have to work late on a case, or you have to travel to testify in a case from Houston like you did a few months ago? Or what if I work late and I’m walking to my car, alone, and…” You couldn’t even finish that sentence, the idea absolutely frightening to you. “And the thing is you’re saying you’ll find them but how can you? You only have a description, not fingerprints, DNA, a profile, a license plate, a make or model of the getaway car — nothing. They could literally be parked behind Poppernak right now, waiting to get in here again, and he wouldn’t even know because no one knows what they look like!” You finished the last part in a yell of frustration. You weren’t mad at him, it wasn’t his fault, and you didn’t mean to lash out, but you were so tired of the bullshit assurances that everyone — from Jenny to the detectives to your friends — had given you the last few days when you knew better.

Beau studied you for a moment and then slowly approached you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him. “How long have you been feeling this way?” He murmured into your ear.

“What? Frustrated?” You laughed but there was no mirth in it.

“Unsafe,” he clarified.

You dug your fingers into the back of his shirt and you could feel the familiar burning in the corners of your eyes. “Since the break-in,” you whispered.

He pulled back to look at you, sighing. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I thought by fixing the door, installing the alarm system and the cameras, and having Jenny do the walk-through with us… I thought all of that would make you feel better. I should’ve realized that maybe it was too soon for us to come back here after what happened.”

You shook your head. “It’s not that. I appreciate everything you and Jenny have done, and I won’t let anyone keep me out of my own home. It’s just…”

“It’s just what?”

You bit your lip, debating on how to tell him this next part. You knew he would be more than understanding, but for some strange reason you hated even giving voice to it. If you spoke it aloud, it might dare the universe and next time, you might not be so lucky.

“Y/N?”

You let out an uneasy breath and circled your arms around his neck, staring into his eyes. You forced yourself to admit to him what was really bothering you. “That night… When you were going to be late…”

His eyebrows flashed upwards, urging you to continue.

“I wasn’t… I was underdressed.”

You could see confusion starting to layer his expression but he gave you a nod of understanding. “You were getting ready to go to bed, you said.”

“I was getting ready to facetime you.” When he still didn’t pick up on your meaning, you gave him a look. “So we could have a moment alone. Together.”

“Oh.” His eyes widened slightly when the realization hit him of just what you were talking about. “Oh.”

You nodded, retracting your arms and trying to step back a little, but his hand caught your hip to keep you from leaving. “I just keep thinking, what if I hadn’t heard them breaking in? What if they had come upstairs, into the room, and saw us? What if they…” You swallowed the rapidly forming lump in your throat, unable to finish that thought out loud. You noticed Beau’s jaw tighten, but his eyes remained soft as they stayed trained on you.

He urged you to close the gap between you with a gentle squeeze to your hip. “C’mere, sweetheart,” he whispered, encasing you in his arms once more. He hugged you tighter and you buried your face into his shoulder, inhaling his comforting scent. “That didn’t happen and it’s never going to happen.”

“You don’t know that,” you choked out. “One night you might not be here and then—”

“No one will ever lay a goddamn finger on you while I’m still breathing,” he vowed menacingly. “I promise you that, baby.”

You hugged him tighter, sniffling. It had always amazed you just how secure and at home you felt while in his arms before this; now, you were grateful for the feeling and you wanted to bury yourself in it until this other terrible feeling went away. Logically, you knew that Beau couldn’t be with you every single second of the day and you shouldn’t want that to be the case yourself, but right now, until you felt secure in your own home again, you really didn’t want to be here without him.

After holding you for a few minutes, he gently moved to wipe a tear that had begun to make its way down your cheek. He offered you a reassuring smile while his eyes were lit with the fire of determination in what he’d promised you. “Whaddya say we move this conversation to the bed?” Your jaw dropped and his eyes bugged out of his head as he scrambled to correct himself, “I didn’t mean like that. I only meant that you’re tired — we’re both tired, and I thought maybe it would be better if we laid down and tried to get some shuteye, that’s all. I—shit. I’m sorry, honey.”

A laugh escaped you, surprising you both. Things had been so serious since the break-in, so intense, even a few minutes ago, that it felt good to laugh again. Just like he had been making you laugh back in the camper — something you never thought you’d experience in this house again. It was a pleasant and welcome surprise. You actually felt yourself start to relax a little.

Beau beamed down at you, happy to feel some of the tension easing away from your body. “So, bed then?”

You lifted up on your toes and pecked his lips, grinning. “Bed.”

He waggled his eyebrows playfully at you, smirking, as he took your hand and led you over to the bed. Once you both were settled in, you snuggled up to his chest and his arm came around you. You felt even more tension melt away from you which was nice. You didn’t realize just how tightly wound you’d been since you walked back into this house.

“You know, if you wanted, I could start looking around for a new place for us,” he murmured to your hairline.

You frowned and fidgeted with his t-shirt. “I don’t want to be run out of my own home.”

“No one’s running you out of anywhere, sweetheart,” he promised. “But I do want you to feel safe. Whether I’m here or not.”

You thought it over for a moment. You’d been in this house for two years and you’d never had an issue, not until now. This was supposed to be one of the safer neighborhoods and you even knew a few of your neighbors. You’d been to their Christmas parties and Sunday dinners — you’d even been to Sarah Tyler’s daughter’s 5th birthday party at the beginning of the year. You didn’t own this house, yet it had become a home to you. You weren’t sure that you wanted to leave. But you also weren’t sure that you could feel one hundred percent comfortable here ever again. You hated the crux you were in.

Almost as if Beau heard your thoughts earlier, he whispered against your skin, “If you’re worried about the kitchen door, we’ll take it with us.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “We can’t take the door with us.”

“Sure we can.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “I installed that puppy and I can take it back down.”

“And leave the house without a back door?” You teased. “Not sure I’ll get my security deposit back when they notice that missing.”

“Nah, we’ll just grab a door from Home Depot and give ‘em that one. I’ll even install it for them for free so you can get that deposit back.”

“My hero,” you joked, turning your head upwards and kissing him.

“Just think about it, okay?” He murmured to your lips. “You don’t have to decide right now, but at least think about it.”

“Okay.” You smiled when he tenderly brushed your hair back with his hand before kissing you again.

He helped you to settle back down against him and gently rubbed your back, something that made you close your eyes. You were starting to nod off when you heard him murmur, “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe, baby.” Your smile reappeared hearing his voice reverberate underneath you, knowing he meant every single word.

“Love you,” you whispered, kissing his chest and snuggling into him once more.

“Love you, too, darlin’.” His other arm came around you and he kissed your forehead. “Love you, too.”

You weren’t quite sure what you would decide when it came to the house, but you knew one thing: here, in Beau’s arms, knowing he would do whatever it took to make you feel secure again, you were starting to feel just that bit safer already.

#beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen x female!lawyer reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x y/n #beau x reader #beau x female reader #beau x you #beau x y/n #beau x female!lawyer reader #beau arlen #big sky fanfiction #big sky #prompt response #big sky fandom #female!lawyer!reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles character #thebiggerbear

279 notes · View notes

thebiggerbear · 4 months

Text

Soldier Boy x Reader - Prompt Response - "Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Summary: You're tired of running and you go to Soldier Boy for protection. He agrees to do it but not without a price.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. The original character I wanted to respond to this prompt with before deciding to make it multi-character. This scenario immediately popped into my head reading the line and I just had to write it. Hope it's okay.

Thank you to my beta Em for her services. You rock, girl!

Warnings: violence/murder; implied assassination attempts; sexual propositioning; Soldier Boy being himself; starts out as a blackmail type dynamic that appears as if a little dubcon at first; language?

Word Count: 2528

SB Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

<-->

You never thought in a million years that you would be seeking out one of the most dangerous Supes in the world for protection. Then again, you never would have thought that a multi-billion dollar corporation would be after you, intent on seeing you torn apart and scattered to the four winds. You didn’t exactly blow the whistle on them, but you didn’t exactly tow the company line either—something Stan Edgar was less than thrilled with and now the evil son of a bitch wanted you dead.

It was no secret that Edgar and Soldier Boy had a falling out of sorts after the truth about his being handed to the Russians had come to light. His old team may have made it happen, but it was Edgar pulling the strings all along. Surprisingly, the Supe who had been so focused on revenge hadn’t hunted Edgar down after this revelation, which made you wary about going this route. However, after narrowly escaping the latest death squad sent after you, you decided you had no choice but to take the gamble. There was nowhere you could run that Vought wouldn’t find you and you just hoped this would be more of an ‘enemy of my enemy’ situation rather than a ‘handing you right over to your enemy’ situation.

Once you had managed to track him down in Hong Kong while you were busy running yourself, he had shockingly agreed to a meet, and even more shockingly agreed to help you. Not without certain stipulations, of course.

“Let me in that sweet pussy of yours and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

You should have known, especially from the way he had been eyeing you up ever since he caught sight of you. Screwing your face up in disgust, you flat out refused. “Not happening.”

He shrugged and began to walk away. “Then you must not need my protection that badly.”

You scoffed in disbelief. “You’re seriously turning me down because I won’t fuck you? Whatever happened to the ‘Soldier Boy is America’s son’ bullshit? The OG superhero who fought Nazis and protected people?”

Soldier Boy stopped and slowly turned back towards you. “I’d be putting myself on the line to protect you. For that, I deserve one hell of a payment.”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. “So now you’re blackmailing me into sleeping with you? Unbelievable.” You had heard he was more like America’s Asshole than its Son, but you still couldn’t believe your ears. You had even offered to help him take Vought down with what you knew, so long as he kept you safe. You knew he’d want that kind of information. Why else was he hopping from continent to continent in the last few months, trying to shake Vought just like you were? Instead, his dick was taking top priority. Typical.

“It’s the least you can do, doll.” He faced you fully again, shield hanging off of his arm as if it weighed nothing. “Like you said, I fought for this country, fought the Nazis, and now you’re asking me to play bodyguard while taking on Vought for you. I deserve something worth all that trouble.”

You ran through all other options in your mind. You still had a contact that could possibly put you in touch with someone that wouldn’t mind tapping into Vought’s offshore accounts that weren’t supposed to exist. You were already on Vought’s kill list; what would a few hundred thousand dollars of theirs matter? “I could pay you,” you offered.

“I’m not interested in money.” His eyes roved over you as he approached. “Besides,” he murmured as he came to a stop in front of you. You tensed as he reached up to tuck a strand of your hair that had gotten loose from under your ball cap behind your ear. ”I haven’t had a looker as pretty as you in a long time. Been locked away.” He gently gripped your chin in between his thumb and index finger, his eyes intent on your mouth before lifting to meet yours. A hint of a smirk started to appear on his handsome face when he most likely heard your heart beat starting to increase.

He released you and even took a step back from you, allowing you physical and metaphorical space. “Your call.”

You bit your lip as thoughts chaotically swirled inside your head. On one hand, you refused to be manipulated or pushed into sex with this asshole. No matter how physically attractive he might be, you weren’t willing to get on your back just so he would help you. But on the other hand, the cold hard truth was that you were tired — tired of running, tired of little-to-no sleep, tired of the paranoia that came with such a flight. Hell, at present, you hadn’t slept in almost two days and you were running on fumes; there wasn’t enough caffeine or energy pills in the world to get you through another day with no rest. Your reaction time was already dragging if your last narrow escape was anything to go by. If you continued this way, you’d be dead before the sun started to warm the sky; you were certain of it.

Soldier Boy stared you down. “What’s it gonna be?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you glanced behind you at a small noise far off down the street. Thankfully, it was an old woman tossing something out onto the pavement, but you couldn’t deny it put you further on edge. You turned back to the Supe whose eyes stayed trained on you. You took a deep breath to steady your nerves and readied your response. His lips began to quirk upwards into a smile; he knew what your answer was going to be before you even said the words.

…

Vought Tower had been completely demolished. Luckily, it had been mostly evacuated before the destruction occurred. A fight between Soldier Boy and the now-dead Homelander had caused most of the damage, but the C4 that had been carefully lined throughout the infrastructure is what ended up bringing it down.

Before it went boom, Soldier Boy had approached Stan Edgar, who refused to cower in a corner. The Supe respected that, but it didn’t change what he’d come here to do. He gripped Edgar by the throat and lifted him in the air, choking the older man and ignoring the fingers that desperately clawed at his hand.

“I thought we had an agreement,” Edgar rasped out.

Soldier Boy shrugged. “She made me a better one.” He then snapped the man’s neck and tossed his body aside like a rag doll.

“Oi! We ought to get out of here,” Butcher warned after seeing Stan Edgar lifeless on the floor. “Frenchie’s about to blow this place to fucking hell.”

He glared over at the Brit and picked up his shield. He still didn’t trust him, not after what he and his merry band of assholes had tried to do the last time they’d teamed up, but he’d made a deal with you and he was intent on keeping his end of it. The only conditions Butcher and Captain Lesbo had given this time around was: no civilian casualties and Ryan was off limits. He did his best with the first and he could give less than a fuck on the other. As far as he was concerned, the kid was Butcher’s problem as long as the kid didn’t come looking for some payback once he got older, which Butcher assured he wouldn’t. That, and there better not be Novichok gas waiting at the end of this mission for him. They’d reluctantly agreed, knowing they had no other way to kill Homelander and take down Vought all in one swoop.

“After you.” Soldier Boy gestured for Butcher to leave first. The man scowled but obliged, keeping a wary eye out as he moved. Smirking, Soldier boy followed. The Supe might have enjoyed the reaction—or even tried to settle the score from Butcher’s previous betrayal—if he didn’t have you to get back to. He needed to let you know that you no longer had Stan Edgar or Vought to worry about. He’d kept up his end of the bargain you’d both made — now, finally, you were free.

…

You woke up to the sound of someone moving through the darkness in your room. You grabbed the gun from beneath your pillow and bolted upright as much as you could, trying to get your eyes to adjust so you could get a good shot.

“Relax, it’s just me,” Soldier Boy assured you.

Recognizing his voice, you slowly lowered the gun and focused on his location. When your eyes finally adjusted, you realized he was near the foot of the bed, completely nude, his hair damp from a fresh shower. “Ben,” you breathed out in relief. “You scared me.”

Through the beams of moonlight shining into the room from the window, you saw him give you a smile and lay his shield down on the floor next to him. “Didn’t mean to.”

You slipped the safety back on the gun and stashed it into the drawer of your nightstand. You hated having it under your pillow at night; it was super uncomfortable and you only needed to do that when Soldier Boy — Ben, as he’d asked you to call him instead — wasn’t around. “Everything go okay?”

“Better than okay.” You glanced back to see a smirk adorning that handsome face of his, with an all-too familiar gleam in those green eyes. You watched as he slipped on some sweats and then made his way to the opposite side of the bed. You moved onto your side to face him, smiling as he climbed in next to you and sat up against the headboard, turning to grin down at you. Within seconds, he had his arms wrapped around you, pulling you up against him, and he was kissing you a proper hello. He only pulled back when you needed air and tenderly rubbed his nose along yours, nuzzling you. “How about you, doll? Everything go okay while I was gone?”

You nodded and snuggled into his bare chest, letting out a relieved sigh when you felt his warm hands stroking your back. “Everything’s fine,” you assured him, closing your eyes. You’d never admit it aloud, but you felt so much better when he was around. Not only did you feel protected but you just felt better in general. You’d have to be under the pain of torture to admit to him (or yourself) that you actually missed him when he had to leave.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and let his lips linger there, continuing to rub your back just the way you liked. “Edgar and Vought are gone,” he murmured. “The Caped Cunt, too. You’ve got nothing more to worry about.”

Your eyes snapped open and you lifted yourself up to meet his gaze, your brows furrowed. “What?” You asked in shock.

“You heard me.” He stroked your cheek with his thumb, his grin now a smug smile. “You’re safe, baby.”

Your eyes widened when the realization hit you. “That’s where you went?”

Your only answer was the lengthening of that smile.

“Jesus, Ben.” So many thoughts and emotions swirled within you all at once. You were free, truly free. You no longer had to worry about Vought death squads hunting you down, Homelander coming for you, or Stan Edgar sending after you any ragtag Supes he could scrounge up. You were free. Although, Ben hadn’t told you that he was about to go on his most dangerous mission yet. He might be America’s original superhero and he might be tough to kill, but that didn’t mean he was completely invincible. He’d admitted as much to you over the last few months. “What if… What if you didn’t—”

He kissed you, effectively cutting you off. “I did,” he hummed against your lips. “Told you I would.”

You nodded, gently tracing his facial features with your hands before gliding down to his shoulders, dipping down the warm expanse of his back and then slowly returning to his chest. As always, he remained patient whenever you did this ritual of checking him for any wounds or injuries, knowing you wouldn’t find any but needing to assure yourself just the same. Truthfully, this man had come to mean more to you than you’d ever imagined would be possible. Hell, there had been a time when it wouldn’t have been possible at all.

When you were done, you met his gaze head on. “Do I want to know?”

Ben remained silent, but his eyes said it all: no, you didn’t want to know. You and Ben may have planned for the downfall of Vought and the ends of Homelander and Stan Edgar, the very same bastards that had put a target on your back in the first place, but that didn’t mean you wanted to hear the gory details of their deaths. You were just grateful Ben had come back to you alive and unharmed.

You gave him a thin-lipped smile in understanding. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Ben studied you for a moment, then pulled you in and kissed you again, his fingers slipping through your hair until he grabbed the back of your neck and urged you to meet him more fully. Just as you were getting into it, he broke away and chuckled. “You’re real eager for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?” You shot him a look and the smirk was suddenly back on his face. Without warning, he picked you up to rearrange you in the bed how he wanted you. “Too bad that you need to get some rest. We’re blowing the fuck out of here tomorrow and you’re gonna need to keep up.”

As if he would leave you behind if you couldn’t. “I thought you said Butcher would leave us alone after this.”

“I don’t trust that dicksucking Brit and I trust his bitch of a boss even less.”

You rolled your eyes, smirking when you felt him settle in behind you, knowing how much he enjoyed spooning you like this. “‘Kay,” you agreed. He had successfully protected you this far; you’d follow his lead on this one, too. You shut your eyes and snuggled into your pillow, content to feel his hands on your back caressing you once more. You were just about asleep when you heard him murmur in your ear, “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe.” You smiled when you heard the words he’d been saying to you every night now for many months and your heart lightened when you felt his hands trail from your back to cup protectively over your rounding stomach, rubbing gently. ‘Safe’ is exactly how you felt right in this moment, and the little girl moving to meet her father’s embrace—like she always did when she sensed he was near—only cemented the knowledge that this was the first night neither you nor she were in danger any longer. It gave you a sense of peace you hadn’t known in a long time.

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy #the boys fanfiction #the boys #prompt response #the boys fandom #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x female!human!reader #female!human!reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles character #thebiggerbear

385 notes · View notes

thebiggerbear · 4 months

Text

Tom Hanniger x Reader - Prompt Response - "Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Summary: Tom has taken you hostage. This is not the Tom you knew and fell in love with. Unable to escape, can you get him to trust you and maybe even reach him?

Pairing: Tom Hanniger x Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. So, just out of the gate, not gonna lie, this is one of the most fucked up things I've ever written and probably the darkest. Story wise I mean. There's something about Tom and that world from the movie that I love exploring. Before I knew it, this was nearing 18K and I was like "Crap, time to wrap this up!" I still enjoyed the exploration of Tom and the reader though in the dynamic they're in during this one.

I tried my best do my research and be respectful in regards to DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder) but also keep this a few years post-movie (2009) while also staying within the context the movie provided but also explore a bit, if that makes sense. Please note I do not work in the psychiatry, psychology, or medical fields. If I got anything appallingly incorrect about this disorder, its symptoms, its treaments, anything, please let me know. Also, I think it goes without saying (but I'll say it anyway), not every single person who has been diagnosed with DID is violent or a threat to others nor are their alters violent or a threat to others. Obviously, this is just a work of fanfiction based on a fictional story where the main character had an alter that was violent and a threat to everyone. No harm or disrespect is intended with this fanfiction at all.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: explicit violence; hostage situation; mentions of knives; dubcon; sex (smut-light); explicit descriptions of murder; mentions of burying a body; explicit threats of physical violence; explicit threat of sexual violence; explicit threat of neonaticide (I highly recommend looking this word up if you don't know what it means so you can decide if you still want to read from there; I didn't feel comfortable spelling it out here to be honest); physical threat of neonaticide; explicit threats of murder; mention of past sexual violence; mention of past sexual assault; implied past domestic abuse; misogynistic language; language

Word Count: 18k+

Tom Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

<-->

When you came to, you glanced around the cabin you were currently tied up in. Tears blurred your vision, strands of your hair matted to your face, and you could feel the gag cutting tightly into the sides of your mouth. You didn’t bother trying to yell or make noise. You knew the cabin you were in since Tom had brought you here once to see it; there was no one and nothing around for miles. The next town over where Tom could get supplies was the closest thing and that was about an hour’s drive.

How had things gone so wrong? You tried to be a good person, you always tried to do the right thing…so how did you end up here?

You already knew the answer to that, though. Because you let him in. Literally, right through your front door.

As if your thoughts summoned him, Tom appeared from the kitchen with two plates in hand and a huge grin, despite a black eye and cut lip he was sporting. He laid yours down in front of you and you could see chicken parmesan, your favorite, surrounded by linguini and green beans. He then placed down his own plate in front of his empty chair before turning back to you with a look of determination. “Alright. Let’s get this off you. No screaming, okay?” He asked, using a softer tone than you’d heard from him all day. “No struggling. And no running.” As if there was any point in screaming or running; no one would hear you and he’d catch you before you made it ten feet. He loosened your gag and pushed it down past your chin to hang around your neck. When you didn’t scream, he graced you with a warm smile. “Good girl,” he murmured as he began working on the ropes tying your hands to the chair. When he moved down to the ones on your legs, you rubbed at your sore wrists, noting a few surface cuts around your arms. He noticed and a frown formed on his face. “Sorry, I won’t tie them as tightly next time,” he promised. You didn’t know what else to do but nod.

When he was finished, he sat up and his fingers gently gripped your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. His green gaze bore into yours and he tenderly trailed the backs of his fingers against your cheek, almost watching you in some sort of odd reverence that you had no idea existed until the last couple of months. He began to lean in, presumably to try and kiss you like he had earlier, but he must have thought better of it and stopped, digging his teeth into his bottom lip as he got to his feet. While you were grateful he hadn’t connected his lips to yours, you had to wonder what deterred him and that made you worry. He studied you for a moment and, just as you feared, he then made his way over to the other chair being used, his soft expression immediately hardening and his warm eyes icing over as they settled on your estranged husband.

He grabbed the back of the chair and dragged him away from the table, choosing to dump him in a corner on his side, making Miles groan in pain. Tom kicked him for good measure and you heard Miles yell out against the gag in his mouth.

“Please,” burst out of you. “Please, Tom, don’t!”

Tom’s glare snapped up towards you. “After everything he’s done to you, don’t tell me you’re still protecting him.”

You knew you had to act quickly, to cajole Tom so you could draw his focus away from Miles. You were the only reason Miles wasn’t dead yet, you knew that without a doubt. “I’m not,” you soothed. “I just want to eat the dinner you went to the trouble of making for me. It’s been hours since I last ate and I really need to eat. I’m sure you’re hungry, too. Please, just come and sit down.”

Thankfully, Tom’s eyes softened a little at your pleading but he still gave Miles one more good kick that made you flinch before he came over to join you. He pulled a knife out of his jacket which made your heart start to pound a little faster but he simply smiled as he also produced a plastic fork. He leaned down and began to cut your chicken into bite size pieces for you. “I, uh, I’ve never made chicken parmesan before so I hope it’s alright,” he told you, a shy smile on his face. You marveled at how he could go from being the scariest thing you’d seen in your life one minute to being the sweetest and most humble guy you’d ever met in the next. “And I know green beans aren’t what would usually go with this dish but I didn’t really have anything else.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, chuckling nervously.

“I’m okay with green beans,” you quietly assured him.

He dropped his hand and smiled, looking relieved and leaning in to tenderly kiss you. You tried your best not to tense up as he did. Tom then made his way over to his seat, leaving you the fork but not the knife. Not only did he not want to chance you using it on him but he most likely didn’t want you using it on yourself either. You never would but he obviously wasn’t too sure about that. You watched as he poured both of you a glass of sparkling cider and sat down a few battery-operated candles between you.

When he handed you your glass, you were disappointed to find it was plastic. He really had thought of everything. He misread your expression and assured you, “I know it’s not the best but I wanted something nice for you for dinner. I’ll get something better though, next time I’m in town. I promise.” You offered up a thin-lipped smile and a nod which seemed to placate him for the time being. So he planned to keep you for a while then. You only hoped Miles would keep his mouth shut and that you could get Tom to start trusting you as you waited for an opportunity that might come your way with the aforementioned trip to town.

Tom took the seat across from you, smiling, and reached over to touch his glass to yours. You watched as he took a sip and after a moment, you joined him, making him grin happily.

As hungry as you were, you weren’t in a rush to eat anything that he had prepared for you out of sight. What if he was intent on drugging you? You weren’t even sure if he hadn’t before. You barely remembered how you got here. All you knew was Miles showed up, having found you, and Tom reacted, then nothing until you woke up here. The only other thing you remembered was blonde hair and so much blood— You tried to shut that thought out. Thinking about Tom again, If he planned to keep you here for a while, he’d have to sleep at some point and he could be planning to drug you then, like right now. And God only knew what he planned to do with Miles; you prayed you could somehow convince him to let the man go while you stayed behind (even though that would be just as dangerous for you). Though Tom hadn’t been wrong; Miles didn’t deserve your compassion. But that didn’t mean you wanted to watch the man you’d once shared a life with die brutally either. If Tom’s distaste for your husband was anything to go by, if he decided to end Miles, it would indeed be brutal.

“Something wrong?”

The question snapped you out of your reverie. You glanced up to find Tom watching you worriedly. You forced a reassuring smile onto your face. “No. Of course not.”

“I thought you needed to eat.” His eyes bored into you, flicking back and forth from the plate to you.

“I will. I’m just…taking it slow.”

He frowned at your food. “It’s not that good, is it?”

“What? No. No,” you worked to reassure him. “It’s just that…” You didn’t want to voice the words and chance angering him.

“Just what?” When you couldn’t think of a way to phrase it and kept quiet instead, he urged you in a softer tone, “Eat, sweetheart.”

You realized then that you had no choice but to take a few bites if you didn’t want to do anything to anger or upset him. You hoped to God that there was nothing in it.

Almost as if he read your mind, his jaw tightened as he went to spear more chicken with his fork on his plate. “There’s nothing in it if that’s what you’re worried about. I wouldn’t do that to you.” His eyes lifted to yours, that soft reverence back in them. “To either of you.” He flicked them to your round stomach in meaning and then back to you again.

You wanted to believe him, especially when he looked at you like that, but wouldn’t it be easier for him to be rid of the child that wasn’t his? Then again, he hadn’t killed Miles yet and he fancied himself in love with you, and you were currently housing said child… Perhaps he truly didn’t mean your baby harm, while it was in utero at least.

Tom let out a heavy sigh and dropped the fork, making it clatter against his plate. He was now scowling over at you, clearly displeased at your show of distrust in him. Uh oh.

Now definitely without a choice, you took a forkful of chicken and slowly bit into it. He seemed pleased with the action and after a moment, continued to eat himself. As you quietly chewed, you realized that it wasn’t half bad, and you were starving. As scared as you were, you knew you would need to keep up your energy for any opportunity to escape, to get you and your baby to safety, and truthfully, you needed to take any chance at a meal that you could. Tom smiled to himself as you really dug in.

You had halfway cleaned your plate when you heard “So it’s okay?”

You stopped to see Tom sitting there, leaning forward and watching your every movement, the biggest grin on his face. You swallowed down the chicken you had just stuffed into your mouth and held a hand over your lips self-consciously. “Good,” you admitted quietly. “Very…good.”

Satisfied with that answer and himself, he sat back in his chair and continued to smile over at you. Though it was unnerving, you continued to finish your meal, your goal being to keep your strength up for your baby. When you were done, he got to his feet and grabbed his plate, slowly making his way over to you. Your heart pounded with each heavy footstep and it nearly stopped when he reached you.

Tom grabbed your empty plate and slid his still half-full one in front of you, placing your fork onto it. When you turned a puzzled expression up towards him, he leaned down and pecked your lips, murmuring to you, “You two need it more than I do.” He kissed you one more time before he walked away, heading into the kitchen. You watched him go in shock, thoughts racing in your mind. Knowing he had eaten some of the food and remembering his promise, after mulling it over for a minute or two, you then dug in, your focus on the chicken and green beans. You needed as much energy as you could get.

<-->

He spooned you that night after insisting you take the only bed in the place — his bed. You felt him press a tender kiss to the back of your neck every few minutes and while that made you uncomfortable, his hands gently rubbing your belly had you absolutely terrified. You imagined all sorts of horrible things as you laid there in the dark, with only a shaft of moonlight sneaking into the room through an opening in the curtains. You kept expecting a knife to be pulled, a fist to collide with your bump, to feel the stab of a hypodermic needle — something. It got so bad that you started to shake and Tom, thinking you were cold, moved the blanket over you both a little higher before resuming his ministrations. You wanted nothing more than to throw his hands off of you and get out of the bed, moving away from him. It was one thing for him to have his hands on you, though now it made your skin crawl in the worst way, but your baby…you would give anything to keep him away from the one person you’d do anything to protect.

You were frozen in fear despite the tremors of your body. You felt the baby move and while that should have overjoyed you like it usually did, it caused tears to start rolling down your cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath you. How much longer would you get to feel that? How much longer would Tom allow you to keep your baby?

“Oh,” he exhaled against your neck. “She’s kicking.”

You closed your eyes, forcing more tears to fall, as your lips trembled. You thought back to the first time he’d come into contact with your baby this way. You had been such a fool — such a blind, trusting, naive fool.

You were cleaning a wooden frame of a painting with a rag when you felt the familiar movement within your tummy. “Oh,” you chuckled, holding a hand to the side of your stomach.

“Are you okay?”

You glanced up to find Tom up on a ladder, watching you with furrowed brows. You gave him a bright smile. “Yeah, of course. The baby’s kicking. Come down here, quick.”

Still looking worried, Tom hurried down the ladder and approached you.

“Give me your hand.” You grabbed the hand he offered up and placed it right where you had just felt movement. Tom glanced back and forth between you and your stomach, looking unsure for what he should be feeling.

A moment later, the baby kicked again. “There! You feel it?”

You knew he must have because an expression of surprise and awe came over his handsome face as he stared down where you held his hand.

Another kick happened and it made you laugh. “Oh, she’s very active today.”

Tom smiled over at you. “You’re having a girl?”

“Well, I don’t really know what I’m having yet but,” You grinned, feeling yet another kick. “I hope it is.”

“Then I hope it is, too.” You glanced up to find him watching you with that soft look you’d seen before. You gently squeezed his hand in thanks and then focused again on your bump.

Tom had been helping you restore the old house you’d moved into. You felt comfortable around Tom, he put you immediately at ease when you met. He’d been a huge help to you and when you had moments like that, you just chalked it up to him maybe having a little crush on you. At least that’s what Cindy, a new friend of yours (and the realtor who’d helped you find the place), said the first time she’d seen you two together when she stopped by to see how you were doing and how the house was coming along. But you never thought anything more of it. Tom never made a move or asked you out. He also never encroached on your personal space without invitation or pushed past your boundaries. He never did anything to make you uncomfortable. As you got to know him, you began to trust him.

But now, you wondered how you could have ever been so stupid.

“You feel that, Y/N?” He breathed, grabbing your hand and holding it to your stomach. “She kicked again.” His tone was so full of wonder and happy surprise that you immediately started to cry. His hand traveled from your stomach up to your hair, smoothing it away from your face. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” You could hear the sudden concern.

“Are you going to kill my baby?” You choked out on a sob.

You felt him turn you onto your back so he could look down at you. He looked less than pleased but he murmured, “No. I told you, I would never hurt either of you. I love you.” He inclined his head towards your stomach. “And her. Everything I’m doing is for you both. I wish you would believe me, Y/N.”

“I really want to,” you cried.

He wiped at your tears and stroked your cheek, before leaning down to kiss you. This time, you opened up for him when he sought entrance beyond your lips and you knew he was pleased by the little groan he let escape into your mouth. You didn’t protest when his hands roamed all over your body, thankfully steering clear of your stomach. You didn’t say a word when he stripped you of your clothes, whispering “Beautiful” as he uncovered every inch of your skin. You didn’t fight when he urged you to open up for him and his tender touch brought you to heights you had never reached before with a partner other than him that left you gasping for air. As you shivered and shook, unable to keep from crying out, and dug your fingernails into his arm, he smiled lovingly down at you. While you came back down, he pressed kisses to your hair, face, and lips. He watched you, almost if he was waiting for something, so you hesitantly reached out for the button on his jeans, thinking you now needed to return the favor, when he stopped you.

“This was about you,” he murmured before kissing you. “It’s been a long day. You should get some rest.”

You nodded, not wanting to disagree in the slightest. He pulled the blankets up over your naked form and urged you onto your side again, away from him. He spooned you once more and placed a kiss to the back of your neck. “Sleep, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ll keep you safe.” His hand then cupped over your belly protectively. “Both of you.”

You bit your lip to keep the tears from starting up again. God, you hoped that was true.

<-->

The next morning, you woke up alone, feeling groggier than usual. You panicked for a moment, thinking Tom may have drugged you after all, but you remembered you hadn’t eaten or drunk anything before you went to sleep. You also didn’t find any obvious injection sites when you searched your body in the bathroom, using both mirrors to your advantage. You chalked it up to everything that happened yesterday. It had been taxing on you, mentally and physically. You were just exhausted and needed more sleep. You might even need a nap today, if only you could relax enough to take one. Though you didn’t see that happening anytime soon. You dressed and made your way out to the main room, worried about where Tom was, though you felt a little relief seeing Miles in the room, still breathing.

You found Tom in the kitchen, making you breakfast, and he gave you a big smile when he saw you. “Morning, Beautiful.” He leaned down and pecked your lips, giving a gentle stroke to your belly with his free hand. “My two beautiful girls.” You forced a smile and hugged him from behind, laying your head against his back, just like you used to do. You hoped that the gesture of affection would keep him just like this, a semblance of the Tom you’d known before Miles ever showed up. It must’ve worked because he squeezed your arms with his free hand and continued cooking.

Thankfully, this time when you sat down at the table, he didn’t tie you to the chair. Instead, he smiled at you as he placed the plate of eggs in front of you and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Eat, sweetheart,” he urged. “And then I want to show you something.”

You nodded, immediately digging in and not wanting to displease him.

His smile grew as he watched you and he leaned down once more to kiss your temple. “That’s my girl,” he murmured. His hand slipped down to your belly and gave it a rub. “My girls,” he corrected, before walking back into the kitchen.

Miles, who was still gagged and tied to his chair, glared over at you from the corner of the room. At some point before you came out of the bedroom earlier, Tom had righted his chair so now he could watch every single thing you and Tom did. You weren’t exactly sure what Tom was planning but you didn’t like it. You especially didn’t like that the man who had terrorized you for years was currently staring at you with pure hatred, as if he’d like to kill you, as if all of this was somehow your fault. In a way, you supposed it was because had you not let Tom into your life in the first place, this wouldn’t be happening. But then again, had Miles left you alone and not coming looking for you, Tom wouldn’t have snapped. At least, you don’t think he would have. And Cindy would still be alive.

“Fucking crazy bitch.” Your eyes snapped to Miles who was still scowling at you. Whatever he said was usually muffled by his gag but you could hear it clear as day. You frowned and went back to your food.

Tom reappeared just then and placed a bowl of cut up fruit in front of you.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He gave you a nod, seeming pleased, until he noticed Miles glaring over at you. You watched the change happen within his expression and suddenly you knew you needed to intervene and quickly. Before he could move, you reached out and grabbed his hand, prompting him to look down at you.

“I need to get exercise. For the baby. Will you take me for a walk after I’m done?”

His eyes briefly softened while the rest of him did not. “Of course.” He dropped your hand and moved around the table, coming to a stop in front of Miles. “You keep looking at her like that and I’ll cut your eyes out and feed them to you,” he threatened with a menacing edge to his tone. “Don’t forget, the only reason you’re even still breathing is because of her.” Tom straightened up, a terrifying smirk on his face, before he punched MIles. You winced, dropping your fork to your plate.

Miles turned back to glare up at Tom, more blood seeping into his gag. “Fuck you, you piece of shit! Fuck you and that fucking crazy whore!” He yelled against the gag. Tom gave him one more punch for good measure, causing Miles to yell out in pain, before he walked away, that smirk still on his face. You watched as Tom sat down across from you and tucked into his own breakfast, seemingly unbothered by what just occurred. You quickly glanced over at Miles, seeing him still glaring but blood coming out of his broken nose.

“He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.”

You quickly looked back at Tom to find him watching you, not glaring so much but also not seeming pleased.

You gripped your fork tightly but forced yourself to keep a smooth expression. “It’s not sympathy, but pity. Pity that he doesn’t know when to shut his mouth.” You turned a glare over on your husband who more than gladly returned it.

When you turned back to Tom, he was studying you, smirking. “Finish your breakfast, sweetheart, so I can show you my surprise and then we can go for that walk.”

You did as he instructed, digging into the fruit, not wanting to displease him any further. Thankfully, though, he seemed to be mollified, for now.

<-->

You stared around you in horror, your knees feeling weak. You held onto the wall for support.

Tom had taken your hand and led you to a small room in the back of the cabin that you had no idea existed, near the bedroom you had spent the night in. He smiled at you and told you to shut your eyes when you arrived at the closed door. You did as he instructed, not wanting to make him angry. He opened the door, led you into the room with his hands over your eyes, and then asked if you were ready. You nodded and he dropped his hands as you opened your eyes and looked around you, your jaw dropping.

“Surprise,” he crowed. “What do you think?”

You were thinking you were going to be sick. You were staring at an exact replica of the nursery you and Tom had put together back in your house, right down to the crib sheet, mobile, paint colors, and night light. Everything you had purchased for your nursery, he had obviously gone and bought a double of to place here. You even spotted the same rocking chair in the corner, the same changing table, and the same toys and books you’d decorated the room with. The same stuffed animals sat in the crib. Even a double of the breast pump machine you’d bought was sitting on the changing table.

“What do you think?” Tom asked happily as he glanced around. “Is it just like the one we put together back at your place?”

You robotically walked to the changing table, opening the cabinets underneath, and you saw the same outfits you’d bought, folded and arranged in the exact same way. You held a hand to your mouth; you felt the urge to scream but you couldn’t let it out. You started to shake. How long had he been planning this? To kidnap you and your baby and bring you both here?

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said from behind you, forcing you to tense up and drop your hand, schooling your features before you turned to look up at him. He was watching you worriedly. “I only did this as a back-up. In case we ever had to come out here. If that bastard out there ever tracked you down and we had to leave quickly, I wanted to make sure you and our daughter had everything you needed.”

Our daughter. It felt like you were falling into an endless void and you would never wake up from this nightmare. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You managed to ask.

He framed your face with his hands. “I didn’t want to worry you. And I figured it would be a nice surprise if we ever did have to come here. A little piece of home.” He gave you a soft smile. “Do you like it?”

You nodded, not sure what else to do, not able to say anything right then. He grinned and kissed you, happy that you liked the surprise. You thought you’d been in trouble before when he tied you up and brought you out here where no one could hear you scream. Now, you realized, you were in so much more trouble than you’d even imagined.

<-->

Tom held your hand as you both walked the property. Thoughts were racing through your mind but you did your best to pay attention to every inch of the land that he took you to.

“You’ve been quiet.” If you closed your eyes, you could swear you could hear the Tom that had become your friend and confidante over the months you’d worked on your house together.

“Just…overwhelmed. And tired.”

Tom stopped in his tracks and your heart rate picked up, worried you had somehow said something wrong.

He turned to you, staring into your eyes, a layer of concern shadowing his expression. “I know this has been a lot and it’s an adjustment. But I promise you, Y/N, all I want is for our family to be together. Without having to worry about sick fucks like the one in there,” He inclined his head back towards the cabin. “Who want to threaten that, who want to hurt you.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes. “And Cindy?”

His jaw tightened and he looked away. “She wasn’t your friend.”

“She was,” you choked out. “And she was a good one.”

His gaze snapped back to yours and he lifted his free hand to your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “No, she wasn’t, sweetheart. How do you think he found you?”

You shook your head, shaking a few tears loose. No, you refused to believe it. He was just trying to trick you into believing it so you would see things his way. “No. She wouldn’t do that. No.”

Tom wiped your tears away and you could see pity staring back at you. For a cold-blooded killer, it threw you for a loop that he could feel anything like pity or worry for you or concern for the baby or any other emotion besides anger, jealousy, and hatred. “When he showed up in her office, he asked where you were and she told him, point blank. No hesitation, just ‘here’s the address’. He even admitted it.”

“No, he lies. He probably showed up in uniform and that’s why she—”

“She knew better. You told her that was a possibility, you told her his name so she could be on the lookout. And still, she didn’t think twice about it and sent him over to find you.”

“No, she would’ve called me to warn me if that happened, if she had no choice. Maybe that’s why she was there…to warn me.”

He gave you a look. “She wasn’t your friend, Y/N. She gossiped about you behind your back. She came onto me at the Christmas party, though I had gone there with you.”

That revelation surprised you but honestly, you didn’t know what was up or down anymore, never mind the truth. “We went as friends. We weren’t together then.”

“She knew I liked you, that I wanted to be with you.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against the corner of your mouth.

You waited until he straightened back up. “That’s still no reason to kill her,” you gritted out, a tear rolling down your cheek.

He looked at you sadly, wiping the tear away. “I know.”

Your brows drew together in confusion. You hadn’t expected that response.

Tom pressed a kiss to your forehead and tightened his grip on your hand. “It’s pretty cold out. Let’s get you back inside where you can get warm.”

You let him lead you back to the cabin, turning that last part of the conversation over and over in your mind. From the sound of it, he knew his killing of Cindy had been wrong. A spark of hope started up in your chest though you were afraid to trust it. He still had you and Miles captive here, after all.

<-->

That night, as he spooned you from behind in his bed, he was kissing your neck, his hands moving all over your body. You could feel his erection digging into your back. “I love you so much,” he murmured to your skin. “It’s just you and me, sweetheart. You and me. And our little girl.” He placed his hand on your belly, trailing his lips up to your jaw. You closed your eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks, and you tried to imagine the Tom who had first made love to you nearly a month ago, who had sweetly kissed your baby bump every time he left the house and every time he came home. You held onto that Tom in your mind as he undressed you, then himself, probed you to make sure you were ready, and slid into you from behind, sighing happily into your neck as he did. He gently pumped his hips into yours and you could feel his hand making its way down between your legs, touching you in a similar way to how he had touched you last night, with complete tenderness. “We were meant to find each other,” he grunted into your ear as you arched your back and laid your head against his shoulder, reacting to his touch. “Be a family.” You tried to ignore his words and only focus on the pleasure coursing through you. He’d said these things to you before, back when he was your Tom, and you’d believed him.

You could hear the old bed creaking beneath you and you could feel his rhythm increasing, the moans and sweet whispers in your ear picking up in frequency. You knew he was close and you squeezed your eyes shut harder, trying to imagine you and him back in your bed at your house, as if nothing had changed between you. That image helped bring you closer to the edge and you reached an arm back, gripping his hair, crying out as you got even closer and closer. His pace increased and the headboard was knocking against the wall now, his groans sounding out in rapid succession, almost tangling with your cries in midair, joining together in an almost impassioned chorus. Lost in your fantasy and the sensations you were feeling, you moaned out, “Kiss me.” Tom’s mouth was on yours, his tongue sweeping against your own, and that pushed you over the edge. You stiffened and he swallowed your cries, grunting loudly himself and intertwining his fingers with yours, squeezing as he fell over his own edge. You were still shaking a couple of minutes later when he slipped out of you and gently rolled you onto your back as you caught your breath.

You could see him beaming down at you, still panting himself, his hair messy from your fingers, eyes bright and full of adoration for you. The same way he’d looked the other times you’d had sex in the past. It made your heart soar but also break mid-flight. “I love you.” You saw how much he meant it and your heart completely shattered.

Your eyes filled with tears as you reached a hand up to stroke his cheek. “I love you, too,” you whispered. And you did, this version of Tom, anyway. His smile grew and he laid his head down on your chest, sighing in contentment as you ran your fingers soothingly through his hair. Tears dripped down your cheeks as you held him, wondering how the universe could be so cruel as to send someone to you that loved you and your baby so much only to have him turn out to be a cold-blooded killer.

<-->

You woke up alone again, even groggier than the day before. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if Tom was actually drugging you in some way once you fell asleep. You had held him until he fell asleep himself last night but obviously, at some point, he must have woken up after you passed out.

You felt irritable, which was most likely a side effect of the grogginess you felt and possibly whatever Tom was drugging you with, as well as typical pregnancy hormones. It was so bad that you couldn’t even be bothered to drum up a smile for Tom who was looking at you like you were the best thing that existed on the planet. You took the food he gave you and dug in, not even thanking him like you usually made sure to do.

You felt off and when he spoke softly to you, “Eat, sweetheart, and then we’ll go for another walk”, you nearly snapped at him, demanding to know what he’d been drugging you with and why. You’d only just held yourself back, reminding yourself you weren’t supposed to say or do anything that would anger him.

Miles, though, was fair game.

He had called you names, though muffled by the gag, the minute Tom stepped out of the room. You ignored him as best you could, though it still got under your skin. Who the hell was he to sit there and call you things like “whore” and “slut”? Even if he had heard you and Tom together last night? Was he so stupid that he didn’t realize the predicament he was in, that you all were in? Had Tom’s threats and beatings not made it clear enough? When Tom got up to get you more decaffeinated tea, Miles threw more insults your way and you decided, yes, he really was that stupid. Nothing you hadn’t already known, you supposed.

Tom placed the tea in front of you and you gave him a nod. His brows drew together for a moment before he smoothed them out, taking his seat once more. He glanced between you and Miles. “Everything okay?”

“Terrific,” you snapped. It didn’t hit you until you said it what you had done. You quickly glanced up at Tom who didn’t look displeased at your attitude (thankfully) but was studying you intently. “Sorry,” you offered more gently. “I’m not having a good morning.”

He nodded, his brows still drawn together. “Well, finish up and we’ll get out of here for a while, stretch our legs, and get some fresh air.” He gave you a patient and understanding smile.

You gave him a wan smile in return, realizing how lucky you were that he was being so understanding and hadn’t gotten angry with you. You were picking up the plastic butter knife to spread jam on your toast when Miles said something nasty to you both, once again muffled by his gag.

At that point, you’d had enough. You dropped the knife and pounded the table with your fist, making the plates shake. “Shut. Up!” You yelled over at him. He scowled at you but did indeed shut up. You realized what you’d done and you worriedly glanced back at Tom. His eyes were flicking back and forth between you and Miles before getting to his feet. Your heart leapt into your throat. Oh no. Now you’d done it.

He made his way over to you, glaring at Miles as he did. When he stopped in front of you, he held out his hand which you warily took. He pulled you to your feet and gripped your chin between his fingers. “I think we should go for that walk now. Okay?” You nodded, not exactly sure what was going to happen but you noticed him shooting a terrifying glare in Miles’ direction. You remembered you needed to keep your strength up so you picked up the piece of toast you had been intent on eating and took it with you as he led you to the door. He saw and chuckled, squeezing your hand, as he opened the screen door for you both to walk through.

<-->

“You feeling a little better?”

You turned to look at him, wondering how to answer that. Yes, you weren’t as edgy, but no, you didn’t exactly feel better. You finally settled on “A little.”

He gave you a hint of a smile and nodded, averting his gaze to the path in front of you.

After a minute, he spoke. “You know, if he’s becoming a problem, I can take care of it.”

You froze, stopping in your tracks, your eyes wide. This was exactly what you didn’t want.

He noticed you had stopped and glanced back at you over his shoulder with furrowed brows.

You didn’t want to anger him but maybe you were too tired, too scared, or too irritated — you couldn’t help but finally speak your mind. “I don’t want you to kill him.”

Instead of angry, he appeared confused as he spun around to fully face you. “Why? He’s obviously upsetting you, which isn’t good for the baby or you, he’s stinking up the place, he refuses to eat anything. Hell, he doesn’t even deserve to live after what he’s done to you. No one’s even going to miss the guy. Not to mention, it would keep you and our daughter safe... What’s the point of keeping him around?”

Tears started to blur your vision as you finally admitted the truth. “I can’t… I can’t kill someone, even him.”

Tom stared into your eyes before licking his lips and looking away. “That’s why I’m offering to do it.”

It terrified you to say this next part but you had to say it. “If this is going to work with us, as a family…you can’t kill anymore people, Tom.” His eyes snapped to yours and your heart began to pound harder in fear. “You can’t kill and I can’t order someone’s death. Even his.” Tears made their way down your face and his gaze softened a little, seeing them.

He reached up and wiped them away with his thumbs before pulling you into him, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “Okay,” he murmured to you. “Okay. We’ll figure something else out for him.” He embraced you tightly and you closed your eyes, relieved. “And then it’ll just be us, the three of us, our family.”

You nodded against him, though you secretly knew you still had to figure out a way to escape. Perhaps once you were able to figure out what to do with Miles, then that would leave just the two of you. And then either Tom would be forced to take you into town for supplies which gave you more of an opportunity to escape or get help, or he’d be forced to leave you here. Based on the two walks you had so far, you were starting to get to know the property. Even though there was nothing but woods surrounding you, perhaps you could make your way at least to the property line. From there, you could figure out your next move.

He released you, kissed you, and took your hand again to start heading back.

“And Tom?”

He glanced over at you.

You didn’t want to push your luck but since you had already spoken up about Miles and the killing, you were going to speak up about this, too. Especially since your child was at stake. “Whatever you’re drugging me with at night, you have to stop. It could be hurting the baby.”

He furrowed his brows again. “Sweetheart, I’m not drugging you. I told you, I would never do anything to hurt her. Or you. I would never put either of you at risk like that.”

You wanted to believe him but you also knew what you felt. “Then why do I feel so groggy when I wake up in the morning? And it’s gotten worse each time?”

He studied you, looking as if he wanted to say something, when a sudden realization dawned on his face. A smile crept along his face. “You’re probably tired because I’ve been keeping you up at night. You probably just need a good night’s rest, that’s all. I’ll tell you what, tonight you take a nice, hot shower, we’ll go to bed a little earlier, and we’ll just sleep. How does that sound?”

You didn’t want to appear too eager for him not to engage in any sexual activities with you so you just nodded and hugged his arm, whispering, “That sounds good, thank you.”

He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into him, leading you both back to the cabin. His smile turned sheepish. “Sorry, sweetheart. I just couldn’t resist you, but don’t worry, I promise to keep my hands to myself. Your rest is more important, especially for her.” He laid a hand over your bump, patting it gently, and you tried not to cringe under his arm.

<-->

Two weeks had passed and truth be told, you were surprised no one had come looking for you yet, considering you, Tom, and Miles were missing, you were pregnant, and Cindy’s dead body had been left in your house. Your due date was little more than a month away, and you were starting to worry you might have to deliver at the cabin if you weren’t found soon.

Miles was still with you both, alive, as cantankerous as ever. He eventually started to eat the small amounts of food Tom let him have when he realized Tom wasn’t going to kill him and he obviously wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He still threw insults at you every chance he got but for the most part, you ignored him to the best of your ability. If Tom overheard, which was rare, he beat the crap out of Miles until either you begged him to stop or Miles lost consciousness. You and Tom were still trying to figure out what to do with him, but short of taking him somewhere deep in the woods and dropping him off there with the hopes that a bear might get him, you didn’t really have any options. And since you asked Tom not to kill him, a hostage Miles remained.

Tom had kept his word and kept his hands to himself at night. He still spooned you, still kissed you and caressed your bump, but he let you sleep. You still woke up groggy sometimes, as if you hadn’t slept a wink, but it had gotten a little better. Tom blamed those mornings on the old mattress. He swore he’d buy a new one the next time he was in town (which thankfully was coming up soon). You had taken to showering before bed every night, hoping the hot water would relax your body enough that you would drift off into a deep, restful sleep. You had actually gotten used to Tom cuddling you and you no longer feared for your child’s life when he touched your belly. He talked to the baby sometimes, something you heard while you were falling asleep, and his tone was so gentle and loving and reverent, that you couldn’t help but think he really meant it when he said he wanted all of you to be a family. He had even taken to kissing the bump again throughout different parts of the day or if he had to go outside to chop wood. He cooked for you every day without complaint, though you’d offered to pitch in to help (hoping he would trust you completely and you could get access to knives and other cooking tools that could be weaponized at some point if needed). He’d given you a knowing smile and thanked you but told you that he was fine with the arrangement, he didn’t mind. You mentally cursed yourself at being so transparent but you were also thankful he hadn’t gotten angry.

For the most part, though, you’d settled into a sort of routine with Tom every day: breakfast, walk, you were free to move around the cabin as he chopped wood for an hour, he’d take you into the nursery to sit in the rocking chair for a bit to either go over possible baby names or to sit and read to the baby or to play music (he had gotten the same pair of fetal headphones you did), lunch, a nap he insisted you take each day to help you rest better while he fixed things up around the cabin, a free couple of hours to do whatever you wanted, dinner, another walk, shower, and then bed.

You were following this routine one such day when Miles appeared to have finally lost his mind altogether.

It was dinnertime and you had come into the main room with a book in your hand. When setting up the nursery here, Tom had bought the same books you had to prepare for the pregnancy. You were able to pick up where you left off in What To Expect When You’re Expecting. You sat down as Tom came in with a plate of carrots for you to snack on. He smiled when he saw your nose in the book, mindlessly reaching out for a carrot, and dropped a kiss on your head. “What chapter are you on?”

“Still on the eighth month,” you answered without looking at him, taking a bite out of the carrot.

“Mmm,” he hummed against your hair. “Maybe you’ll finish it by the time we eat. I’ve got about ten more minutes left and then we’re good to go.”

“That’s fine. I’ve got carrots to munch on and plenty to read in the meantime.” You held the book up in gesture.

He chuckled and dropped another kiss to your head before walking away. You immediately got back to reading.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tom loosen Miles’ gag and then shove two pieces of white bread in his mouth. “Here, dipshit.” He slammed a small plastic cup of water on the arm of his chair, spilling most of it and not really caring. “Enjoy.”

Tom left the room with a glare over his shoulder in Miles’ direction.

Miles spit out the bread and turned furious eyes on you. You ignored him, choosing to go back to your chapter.

“You stupid, crazy fucking whore.”

Your jaw tightened but you remained silent, picking up another carrot to snack on.

“You hear me? You’re so desperate for dick you’re playing house with that crazy fucker.”

You could feel yourself tense up but you simply turned the page.

“You’re a stupid fucking crazy whore and I always knew you were.”

You rolled your eyes. “Careful, Miles, you’re starting to sound like a broken record.”

That had been a mistake to say. A shark-like grin appeared on Miles’ face — well, as much as it could with his face beat to hell. “You want to hear something different? Alright, how about this? When I get outta here and I will get outta here, I’m going to kill that motherfucker right in front of you. I’m going to bash his skull in while you watch. Then when I’m done with him, I’m going to come for you.” You tried not to show it but you could feel an age-old fear creeping up on you. “Since you’re such a whore, I’m gonna use you like the whore you are, over and over again, until you’re crying and begging me to stop. And just like old times, I won’t.” You could feel the tremors starting up. “I’ll even fuck you right next to his corpse so you can cry all over his brains on the ground. And then when I’m finished with you, good and finished, I’m going to beat the hell out of you but not before I cut that baby out of you and strangle it with its own cord right in front of you. Then if you’re somehow still alive after all that, I’m gonna kill you. And I’m gonna get a medal for it. ‘Hero cop stops modern-day Bonnie and Clyde from continuing their killing spree.’ You just wait. The governor will be shaking my hand and I may even get a call from the goddamn President, thanking me for my service. I put down three rabid dogs, all for the price of one, the one I was tracking down in the first place. I’m gonna be a goddamn hero for this, for ripping you and your evil spawn from this world. How’s that for a new record, you crazy whore?”

A tear slipped down your cheek and he laughed.

“I should’ve fucking gotten rid of you when I had the chance. Now, I’ll have that chance and I’m going to enjoy it.” He laughed again.

You wiped your cheek just in time for Tom to walk in with a bow of mashed potatoes. You noticed that for all of Miles’ bravado a moment earlier, he sure got quiet when Tom walked into the room.

Tom placed the bowl down on the table. “Just give me five more minutes.” He glanced up and immediately knew something was off. “What’s wrong?”

You gave him a thin smile. “Nothing,” you assured him. “Looks like I’m not going to make it to the ninth month chapter after all.” You placed the book down; you had lost your appetite for both knowledge and for food. “I’m actually not feeling well so I think I’m going to go to bed early.”

He tilted his head, confused. “But you were feeling fine a few minutes ago. Was it the carrots? Or something else…?”

You shook your head, ignoring Miles’ chuckling under his breath. “I just need to lay down. I’m sorry, I know you worked hard on dinner. Can you save me some for tomorrow?”

Tom’s eyes darted to Miles, his jaw tightening. “Of course. Get some rest and feel better, sweetheart. I’m here if you need anything.”

“Thanks.” You turned and left the room, wincing when you heard Miles yelling out in pain presumably from Tom hitting him but you refused to turn back and look.

<-->

When you got out of the shower and dressed in the sleeveless maternity nightgown Tom had thought to buy for you, you wiped the condensation off the mirror with a hand and stared into it. You couldn’t believe the things Miles had said to you but then again it was Miles, so you could. A part of you wondered if Tom was right; would it be safer for you and your baby if Miles was gone for good? You shook the thought from your head, not even wanting to entertain it. No matter how horrific Miles was, no matter how dangerous, you weren’t a killer. Even if he was killed by some other means, you didn’t want to be the one responsible. You were better than that, a better person. You wouldn’t become like Miles and let him win.

You heard a soft knock on the door. “Y/N?”

You nervously licked your lips and went to open the door. You hoped Tom wasn’t upset with you for missing dinner. But when you opened it, all you saw was concern and worry staring back at you.

He ducked his head, meeting your eyes. “Are you feeling any better?”

You tried to smile but it probably came out as a grimace. “Yeah.”

Tom studied you for a moment and then held out his hand which looked remarkably clean considering what he had done to Miles recently. “I want to show you something.”

Thinking it might have to do with Miles, you started to shake your head. “No, I don’t—”

“It’s for the baby,” he soothed. “I have it right here on the bed.”

You let out a quiet breath of relief and took his hand. He kissed your forehead and led you over to the bed where a box sat on top. He urged you to get closer and take a look at it, releasing you.

You gazed down at the box, picking it up and looking it over. “A home fetal heart monitor?”

“Yeah.” He sat down on the bed, taking the box from you and opening it. “I know you haven’t been able to go for your usual checkup due to our…situation at the moment.” He pulled everything out and laid it on the bed. “I bought this long before we came here, in case we needed it. You said the baby is pretty active every day so I didn’t think it was needed. But, you know what, maybe it’s not a bad idea to check in on her. What do you say?”

You were honestly floored at the gesture and you wondered if he had gotten Miles to confess what he’d said or if he overheard again. Either way, you were touched. “Um…” You bit your lip, trying to keep from crying. Damn these pregnancy hormones sometimes. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He grinned.

“Yeah,” you laughed, a tear slipping out as you reached for the wand.

He read the instructions and you both figured out how to use it. He urged you to sit back against him as he lifted the hem of your nightgown over your belly. He applied the gel and you used the wand, moving it around until your baby’s heartbeat started to sound from the speaker. You couldn’t help but smile.

“There she is,” Tom whispered into your ear in awe. “There’s our little girl.”

You felt your eyes welling up again, joy and relief flooding through you as you listened to your baby’s steady heartbeat. You turned your head to look at Tom, seeing the same emotions reflecting back at you. “Thank you,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss him. Somehow he knew just what you needed. The louder and steadier your baby’s heartbeat was, the more it drowned out Miles’ words.

You felt completely at peace and able to drift off to sleep soon after, with Tom wrapped around you. Your baby was okay and she was going to be safe.

Perhaps Miles was right. Maybe you were kind of playing house with a “crazy fucker” as he claimed. But you’d take that crazy fucker over Miles anyday. That crazy fucker cared more about your child than he, the biological father, did. Tom cared about her, wanted her, and would do whatever it took to keep you both safe while Miles had threatened to hurt her, hurt you both. So yeah, you’d take the “crazy fucker” any day of the week.

<-->

A scream startled you awake. You sat up as best as you could, glancing around the dimly lit bedroom. You could see the first shafts of morning light peeking through the windows. You were alone in the bed. “Tom?” You called, scared when you didn’t see him. You didn’t know what you’d heard but you were frozen in terror.

Another pained scream erupted out of nowhere and it sounded like it was coming from outside. Miles’ words came back to you and you hurriedly got to your feet, realized you were nude (Tom must have taken your nightgown off to be skin on skin again; he liked that), and dressed. Your hair was still damp from your shower last night but you had no time to throw it up in a bun or ponytail. You felt sore and you noticed a few cuts on your fingers. The sight terrified you especially given how sore your body was and how you had woken up nude but Tom was nowhere to be found. Especially when you remembered Miles’ threats. “Tom?” You cried but you still got no answer.

You made your way to the main room and gasped when you saw blood in the corner where Miles had been, partially covered by a sheet. You noticed there was blood spatter all over the walls, in almost every nook and cranny. Some of it had even landed on the table, the opposing wall, and the area of floor you were about to step on. “No. No!” You weren’t sure if you were more scared of Tom at this moment, or for him. You belatedly realized he must have overheard Miles threatening you and the baby last night and that was definitely why he brought out the fetal monitor to assure you. You’d had such a sweet moment with it; how did you go from that to this within a matter of hours?

You ran out the door, the screen door slamming back against the house. You didn’t see anything or anyone in the distance. You heard the screaming again and it seemed like it was coming from the surrounding woods to your right.

“Tom!” You screamed.

You ran back inside, looking for anything you could use as a weapon, maneuvering as best you could with your stomach but not finding anything, and hurried back out to the porch. You had to stop Tom. Miles had been horrific to you and didn’t deserve your intervention but you couldn’t let this happen to him. He was a human being, a horrible disgusting human being, but a human being nonetheless. You were about to hurry down the stairs when a bloody Tom appeared in front of you, a pickaxe in his hand.

You froze, unsure if you should run back inside or if that would even make a difference. You held a hand over your mouth and your eyes filled with tears when you noticed something hanging from one side of the pickaxe’s blade that looked suspiciously organ-like.

He came to a stop in front of you, near the bottom of the stairs, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. “Is it the baby?” He asked worriedly, panting.

You shook your head, biting your lip to keep from yelling in terror. You couldn’t keep the tears from spilling down your face, though.

He saw and his brows drew together until realization dawned upon his face. He dropped the pickaxe to the ground and spoke gently. “I’m okay, sweetheart. This isn’t my blood.”

Tom actually thought you were worried about him, that somehow Miles had gotten a hold of him like he’d threatened and was doing horrific, unspeakable things to him. A voice deep down told you to play along. “Will you please come inside then and let me clean you up?” You fought hard to keep the wobble out of your voice.

His eyes softened and he climbed the stairs to stand before you. The sight of so much blood made you want to vomit. You weren’t squeamish by any means but the amount of blood covering Tom from head to toe… If Miles wasn’t dead already, he soon would be.

Tom went to reach out a hand to your cheek but then saw the blood and thought better of it, dropping it to his side.

“Y-You promised,” you forced out.

“I did.”

“Why then? W-Why did you break it? We were…we were doing so well,” you sobbed out.

His jaw tightened but his eyes saddened. “We still are. Let me go finish…that. I’ll come back, clean up, and then we’ll talk.” He said it as if he was simply going to finish chopping firewood and then come back for lunch.

“Tom,” you gasped, trying to breathe through the sobs tearing out of you. “If you continue ro torture him, I can’t be with you.”

His brows furrowed again and you waited for the terrifying expression you’d seen all too often to make a reappearance. Instead, he looked more confused than ever. “I’m not torturing him, Y/N.”

“Yes, you are. I heard him screaming.”

His lips parted in shock and he went to reach out for you again. This time, you flinched and moved backwards on reflex. He dropped his hand and curled it into a fist. You were scared that you angered him but God, how could you live with yourself if you let him go continue killing Miles slowly and brutally?

“Sweetheart,” he spoke gently. “No one was screaming. Except you.”

“I know what I heard, Tom!” Was he seriously trying to gaslight you right now into believing you had been hearing things? The bloody pickaxe was still on the ground, with whatever attached it, for crying out loud. “It woke me up!”

His eyes softened then. “Miles was dead before I dragged him out here. You saw…inside…no one could have survived that.”

You felt like your heart stopped. The way he talked about murdering another human being so casually made your blood run cold.

He took another step closer and you took another step backwards. He held out a placating hand but all you could see was the blood caked on his skin. “Y/N, look at me.” You lifted your gaze to his and only then did you notice how badly you were shaking. “I need you to take some deep breaths and relax.”

“Relax?” You laughed. “Are you kidding me?”

“You need to stay calm for the baby.”

You huffed out a snort in disbelief but after a moment, you realized he was right. The last thing you needed right now was for labor to start early or for there to be any complications when you were this remote. You forced yourself to take deep breaths.

“Good.” He gave you a tiny smile. “Now, I need you to listen to me.”

You focused on your breathing, not wanting to listen to him but you had no choice.

“I need you to go inside and pack your things. There’s a bag under the bed you can put your clothes and the baby’s clothes in. When I’m done, I’ll come in, clean myself up, and get the rest of what we’ll need.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re taking me somewhere else? Are you serious?” You felt like your mind was unraveling. “What about— What about the nursery?” You could care less about the nursery right now but it was what your mind grasped onto, trying to make sense of everything that was happening.

“We’ll take most of it with us. Don’t worry. I can recreate it in the new place. Quickly, too, before she comes.”

“Another remote cabin?” You snapped.

He shook his head. “A home. For us, for our family. There’s a swingset in the backyard and everything.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Just how long have you been planning this? First this cabin? Now a house? How long, Tom?” You demanded.

He seemed unsure how to answer but he said, “As long as I’ve had to. Now, please, go inside and pack. If you hear anything, just know I’m okay and he’s already dead. Alright?”

You kept focusing on your breathing, not answering him.

“I promise I’ll explain everything once we’re on the road.”

The road? Depending on which road he planned to take, there may be other cars on that road, places he needed to pull over for gas — people. You could possibly flag someone down for help or even make an escape attempt that might be successful. The road was good. It meant opportunity.

You took another deep breath and nodded, opening the screen door and walking inside, refusing to look back at Tom or the massacre-decorated corner of the main room.

<-->

You had packed everything Tom had told you to: your clothes, the baby clothes, your book, any necessities. After a while, Tom had come back, spent a few hours attempting to clean the blood from the main room which he urged you to keep the bedroom door shut for with the bedroom window open in case, jumped in the shower, and then urged you out the door. He packed everything else up into his truck. He’d even disassembled the crib and tied the rocking chair down securely in the truck bed. The changing table was being left behind as well as the cubbies he’d stored the books and toys in but everything else came with. He also managed to quickly pack a cooler of food and drinks, and took whatever he could from the cupboards. It was an odd sensation, standing by the truck as he did all of this, not offering to help. A part of you wanted to but the other part was still angry with him for killing Miles and breaking his promise to you. Another third smaller part was scared to death that you were about to share the same fate, or at least you would once the baby was born. Tom wanted your baby; that was crystal clear to you now as you noticed the larger percentage of what was packed had more to do with the baby than anything else. While he had told you he wanted you all to be a family, perhaps he was just waiting for you to give birth and then that would be it. For you.

You focused on maintaining your breathing and told yourself you would get away long before that could happen.

Once everything was packed up and the cabin was closed up, Tom opened the passenger door for you and helped you up into the seat. You wouldn’t have accepted his help if you thought you could get up there yourself but a very big belly tended to offset everything. He got into the driver seat, slipped a baseball cap on, and pulled away from what had been your temporary home for a few weeks.

It was about fifteen miles on the highway or so, with nary a car in sight, that you finally turned to Tom (who you had been ignoring this entire ride so far) and asked the question that had been sitting in the back of your brain. “You heard him last night, didn’t you?”

Tom turned a confused expression onto you.

“When he threatened me.”

His eyes hardened and his jaw clenched, turning back to the road ahead. “No. I didn’t. I knew he had probably said something to upset you but I didn’t know he did that. Had I, I would’ve…” He shook his head, angry, clenching a fist. “Makes sense, though.”

“What makes sense?”

He nervously licked his lips and reached over to pick up your hand. You went to yank it back but he tightened his grip and placed a kiss to your skin. “I promised I would tell you everything and I will.”

“Now seems like a good a time as any,” you seethed, still trying to pull your hand back but he wouldn’t let you.

“Let’s get some driving out of the way first. We’ve got a ways to go and I’d rather we put as much distance as we can between us and that cabin.”

“Yeah, I bet,” you muttered.

He seemed displeased with your reaction but he let your hand go and continued focusing on the road. And for the first time since this whole thing started, you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. That worried you a bit because you should be trying to keep him happy, calm, trusting, and instead you were doing the exact opposite. But the anger and betrayal you felt seemed to be overriding everything at the moment.

<-->

“Hey. Y/N.”

You were being gently shaken awake and you opened your eyes, glancing all around you. You were still in the front seat of the truck and the sun was starting to go down. You turned to see Tom rubbing your shoulder.

“You need to use the bathroom, sweetheart?” He murmured.

Almost as if on cue, your bladder started to hurt. You nodded, rubbing your eyes.

“Okay.”

He jumped out of the truck and made his way over to your side. He opened your door and lifted you to the ground, grunting in the effort. Had he been someone else, you would’ve felt bad for the strain he was putting on his body in doing so.

You were at a rest stop where other cars surrounded you. You saw families milling about, couples, friends traveling together — people.

He grabbed your hand and gripped it tightly. “Stay close to me.” Of course he wanted you to stay close to him. He didn’t want you running off for help after all.

You let him lead you into the building as you tried to formulate a plan to escape him. He held you closer as he pushed his way through people waiting in line for the various food vendors available and brought you to the women’s bathroom. Thankfully, there was no line. You were just waiting to get in there and lock the door behind you. But as luck would have it, he opened the door himself and ducked his head in. When he determined it was clear, he urged you in ahead of him and locked you both inside.

“I’ll be right here if you need me.”

You glared at him and went to find a stall, realizing he’d already anticipated your plan. When you found one, you relieved the pangs of your bladder and tried to think of a new plan. You heard him checking the other stalls around you as a precaution.

Technically, there were a lot of people around. If you screamed in the middle of the crowd, he couldn’t do anything about it. You smiled to yourself. Yeah, you liked that plan.

You finished doing what you needed to do and exited the stall to wash your hands. While you were drying them, arms came around you, a hand tenderly placed against your belly, and you heard Tom whisper in your ear, “I love you. I love both of you. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost either of you.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t know what he said. If I had, maybe I could’ve done something to keep this morning from happening.”

You refused to look at him, in the mirror or next to you. Too little, too late. “You broke your promise to me, Tom.”

“I didn’t break my promise to you, sweetheart.”

“Really?” You spun around, glaring up at him. “And what do you call this morning? Look, Miles was a despicable human being who did the most horrific things to me a long time ago and threatened to do even more horrific things if he got loose, but he was still a human being. You know what? It’s not even about him. I didn’t even ask you not to kill him for him, I asked you not to kill him for me. Not because I cared in the slightest what happened to him, but because I can’t be with someone who just goes around killing people because they can! I have a baby to think about, Tom! What if she cries too loudly or she doesn’t put her toys away when we tell her to? What then?”

With each word you said, he looked more and more pained. “I’m going to be a good father to her, Y/N. I’m really doing the best I can to keep…certain impulses in control. It’s not easy. Even when there are certain risky things going on that are tempting those impulses.”

“What?” What was he talking about?

“I didn’t want to have this conversation until we got to the house but if you need to hear it now so you know how much I love you and the baby, then so be it. Y/N, I—”

A loud pounding sounded on the door. “The door’s locked!” Some woman yelled.

“Shit,” he muttered before turning to look down at you pleadingly. “Look, I get that you can walk out that door, scream for help, I would have to run, and then you’d never see me again. But Christ, Y/N, I’m asking you to please give me a chance to explain. Just one. If you don’t want to be with me after that or allow me to be her dad,” He swallowed compulsively at that part. “Then you two can stay in the new house and I’ll move on. I promise.”

“Hey, some of us have to go to the bathroom, too! Open up!”

You gritted your teeth and glanced up at him skeptically. “Another promise?”

“I haven’t broken the last one I made to you yet.”

You shot him a look.

“Open up or we’re going to report you!”

“Report me to who?” You snapped at the door. “The bathroom police? Please.” You turned back to Tom who was smirking down at you. “What?”

He only smirked wider and offered you his hand. You realized you must definitely be nuts because after a moment, you took it. He leaned down to kiss your nose, whispering, “Thank you.”

A second later, he gripped your hand tightly. “No matter what, we keep our heads down and just get back to the truck. Deal?”

You gave him a hesitant nod and moved closer to his back, so he could break through the crowds for you both.

He unlocked the door and opened it, rushing past a couple of women standing sentry at the door. The loud one yelled at you as you passed, “Really? That’s what we were waiting on? Disgusting! I should report you both!”

You had the strongest urge to yell something back but Tom squeezed your hand and hurried out of there, ignoring any onlookers.

You were just about to step into the parking lot when you heard a feminine giggle to your right. You glanced over and saw a young woman flirting with a young guy. She was touching his jaw with the tip of her finger, and he was smirking down at her.

She giggled again and the images in front of you began to swim. Suddenly, another image overtook it.

You were back in your house, at the top of the stairs, watching as your friend Cindy was all smiles at Tom. He was coming down off of the ladder from installing the light at the top of the foyer. He gave her a polite smile and when she asked where you were, he said you were upstairs resting, the baby had been really active that morning.

Cindy watched as he wiped his hands on a rag and she sidled up to him. “Tom, what are you doing? Playing house with the new weird pregnant girl who won’t tell anyone where she’s from, and stepping in as Daddy? It doesn’t suit you. You’re young and strong and full of life. Don’t let her suck it out of you.” Your grip on the railing tightened.

Tom had politely pushed her away. “I love her, Cindy. I love them both. They’re my life. Now, if you can’t accept that or even speak nicely about her in her own home, then I think it’s time for you to leave.” He gestured towards the door.

Cindy tried once more. “But, Tom, we had some fun times together, didn’t we? Wouldn’t you prefer that to whatever this is?” She gestured around the foyer in disgust.

“Yes, we did. And no, I don’t. Like I told you at the Christmas party, I’m not interested. So, please leave.”

“Ugh, fine. Call me when you get bored of the fake family routine.” She was walking towards the door finally. You could see Tom’s jaw tighten as he watched her go, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.

You quietly hurried down to the last few steps, plastering a big smile on your face. “Cindy, is that you?”

Tom’s gaze snapped over to you and Cindy spun on her heel with the biggest fake smile. “Y/N! I was just asking after you. Tom told me you were getting some rest so I figured I’d drop by later to see how you were doing.”

You made your way down the stairs, Tom holding out a hand to help you. You gave him a smile of thanks and laid a hand on your belly, rubbing. “Yeah, she was being a little overactive this morning and tired Mommy out.” You then placed your hands on your belly as if you were blocking the baby’s ears. “Usually happens after a great night of sex,” you said in a more conspiratorial tone.

Tom grinned down at you. “Damn right it does.” He pulled you to him, kissing you.

You chuckled against his lips, playfully pushing away from him, your cheeks warm. “Tom, we have company.” You inclined your head in Cindy’s direction who still had the fake smile going.

Tom shrugged. “She was just leaving.” He leaned in to kiss you again when you laughed and turned to let him kiss your cheek instead.

“Oh my word, you two are just too cute together. Like a Christmas card without all of the…Christmas,” Cindy let out in a laugh.

Tom moved and slipped his arms around you from behind, pressing kisses to your cheek as he rubbed at your belly.

“So, Cindy, what did you drop by for?” You asked, playfully slapping at Tom’s hand that was subtly moving above your belly. He snickered into your ear before nibbling on it.

“You know what, you seem a little busy right now, hun. I’ll drop by later so we can talk.”

You gave her a bright smile. “That’d be great. I’ll put coffee on for you and tea for me, and we’ll chat then.”

“Absolutely! See you then!” She wiggled her fingers in a goodbye and then was out the door.

Your smile dropped as soon as the door closed. Tom saw and placed his lips at your ear. “I take it you heard all of that before you came down?”

You turned a stone cold expression on him.

He sighed and laid his forehead against yours. “I love you and want to be with you. Only you. You know that.”

“But you’ve been with her?”

“It was only a couple of times, purely casual. It was done before you even came to town.”

You gripped his chin tightly. “Are you sure you want to give up fun times together and play Daddy?”

His brows drew together, studying you. “Yes. Sweetheart, if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t be here.”

Your expression softened and you released him. “You mean that?” You whispered.

He gave you a soft smile and kissed you. “We could be up in the mountains somewhere, just the three of us, and I’d be happy. So, yes, sweetheart, I mean it. We’re a family and nothing is going to threaten that. I promise.”

You hugged his arms around you and leaned back against him, relaxing and smiling. You really had no idea what you had done to deserve Tom coming into your life when he did.

Which is why you were so desperate to keep him with you, to keep your family together. When Cindy walked into your kitchen a few hours later, you were determined to lay down the law. To let her know that you overheard her earlier and while you appreciated her helping you find this house (and Tom by extension), she was no longer welcome in it. Instead, though, she ended up dead. She made a comment to you about Tom that was heavy with implication and before you knew it, you attacked her. Multiple stab wounds to the body after a smashed coffee pot over her head that caused third-degree burns. She just wouldn’t stop screaming.

Tom arrived back from a trip to the store and found you in the kitchen, still stabbing her long after she finally stopped screaming, his eyes wide. He wrestled you for the knife and tossed it before gripping your face and staring into your eyes. “Y/N, it’s me! Look at me! Y/N!”

You both heard your backdoor opening, and in walked your estranged husband who you had been running from. Miles’ eyes were wide as he took in the bloody scene in front of him and he whistled, chuckling. “Always knew you were a crazy whore.” Tom immediately recognized him from the picture you’d shown him and he let you go, fury filling his expression.

Tom attacked him and they fought. Miles had somehow managed to best Tom at one point and he was about to go to town on him when you hit him with a frying pan. It gave Tom the opportunity he needed to get out from under him and before Miles could even try to attack you once he recovered, you held a knife to his throat as Tom grabbed another one, that same fury in his eyes.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you told Miles. “One move and you die.”

“You stupid bitch, I’ll fucking kill you,” he spit. You pressed the blade into his neck a little more.

Tom rushed him, ready to kill him when you held a hand up, stopping him. “No. He lives.” Tom glared up at you, unsure of why you were stopping him. “We take him with us, make him watch and hear everything, and we have some fun.” You gave Tom a wicked smile and he returned it, turning it down onto Miles who was bleeding from where you’d cut him. “Do you know a place?” You asked Tom.

“Yeah.” He glanced once again at Miles, his smile widening. “I know a place.”

You were suddenly at the cabin, waking up in the middle of the night. Not caring if you were dressed or not, you slipped out of Tom’s arms and padded into the main room. You stood there, watching as Miles slept, or if he was awake like he was the night you and Tom had sex, you stood there with a knife, fucking with his head. Would you kill him? Would you not? You made sure to let him know the child you carried was biologically his but he would never see it born. Tom was its father now and he was much more of a man than Miles, as he must have heard earlier. There was even one night where Tom woke up and found you in the kitchen in the dark, holding a knife over your belly, as if you were going to stab yourself. He knocked the knife out of your hand and asked what you were doing. You said it was Miles’ child and you wanted Miles out of you. Tom held your face in his hands and assured you that the child was his and his alone.

“No, it’s not,” you murmured.

“Yes, it is. Listen to me, that’s my little girl inside of you. She’s both of ours. He has nothing to do with it. Y/N, I don’t know if you can hear me, but you love this baby and you love me. You want our family to stay together. You told me that! Please! Don’t let her hurt our baby!”

“It’s our baby?” You asked in a tiny voice.

“Yes, sweetheart, it’s ours. Just ours.”

You allowed him to carry you to bed and hold you there, shushing you soothingly and rubbing your belly, using your hands with his.

And then came the night Miles threatened you. This time, you stood over him with the knife.

“You dumb whore, you don’t have it in you to kill me. You won’t even let your crazy boy toy do it.”

“Yeah, because I want to be the one to do it.” A big smile spread across your face and you slashed at his cheek, making him curse.

“Go ahead then! Even if you kill me, you’ll never be rid of me. I’ll always be a part of you, inside you, in that kid. Know that, you stupid bitch. I should’ve fucking killed you when I had the chance!”

You started slicing and then forcefully stabbing and never really stopped. You took pieces off of him (including what could be construed as what he thought was his manhood) and he screamed, and screamed, and screamed. Tom woke up when the screaming started but you didn’t stop. He tried to get you to, telling you he would take care of the rest for you, that he didn’t want you to hurt yourself or the baby, but you told him no, you wanted to do this yourself. You’d earned it. Instead, he stood there, waiting, in case you needed him. He nervously watched as you took Miles apart, his eyes repeatedly flickering to your stomach. At one point, though, you could have sworn you noticed a faint smirk on Tom’s face when Miles screamed particularly loudly and his eyes were hard but proud. Only when you were done, though Miles had been dead for a while by this point, did you turn to go back to the room. Tom stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you hurt?” You shook your head. “Our baby?” Another shake. He let out a huge sigh of relief. “Why don’t you go take a shower and then get into bed? I’ll clean this up.”

“Thanks, baby,” you’d whispered, gripping his face and lifting up on your toes to kiss him. You left Miles’ blood all over his cheeks but he still looked at you with that same reverence he always had. Once you were out of the shower, he was there to run clean hands over your belly, checking for any injuries but not finding any. You’d smiled and kissed him, not caring about the dried blood on his face when you’d crawled onto his lap and urged him to take off his shirt.

You saw more flashing Images of you in his lap, arching your head up in pleasure, him kissing down the column of your neck, some of the blood from his face transferring onto your skin.

The screams and moans echoed in your ear as you came back to yourself. You felt as if you were losing your balance and you started to fall until Tom caught you in time.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, not looking at him, tears streaming down your face.

“Hey, she alright, man?”

“You need me to call for an ambulance?”

“No,” Tom assured the onlookers. “Thank you but she’s fine. She has low blood sugar and this happens when she forgets to eat. Let me get her back to the car so I can give her a juice box. Thank you but she’s okay.”

He lifted you in his arms, grunting, and slowly began the trek to the truck. “I thought we had a deal, sweetheart. But you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’m not gonna leave you or our little girl behind at a rest stop. Not happening.”

‘Tom, I… I killed them,” you sobbed, staring up at the sky.

He stopped short for a second but then kept moving. “Shhh. Just hang on, sweetheart. We’re almost there.”

“I-I-I killed them.” You started to break apart. “I even threatened my baby.”

Tom picked up speed slightly and did his best to get you both back to the truck. Once there and he had you in the passenger seat, you were already hyperventilating. He gripped your face and forced you to meet his eyes. “Sweetheart, we need to get your breathing under control. Let’s slow it down together, okay?” He took your hand and placed it on his chest and he placed a hand on your chest. “Follow me.”

He eventually got you to calm down a little, taking nice deep and even breaths, but it wasn’t enough to make you forget what you had seen, what you had done. You thought back to what you had said to Tom. “I can’t be with someone who just goes around killing people because they can!” “If this is going to work with us, as a family…you can’t kill anymore people, Tom.” You’d blamed him for Cindy’s and Miles’ deaths!

“What do you say we go someplace and have that talk now?”

You nodded, more tears falling down your face at the action. He wiped your cheeks with his thumbs and kissed you before settling you into your seat. Within two minutes, you were back on the road again, his hand in yours, and you stared blankly out the window. You were a killer and Tom, even your own baby — they weren’t safe.

<-->

“I’m so sorry, Tom.”

He turned an inquisitive gaze on you.

“I blamed you when it was me.” You wiped a tear away. “I’m sorry.”

You both were sitting at a picnic table in a nice parking area off the shoulder of the highway that he had managed to find. Thankfully, no one was really around. The stars beginning to come out might have something to do with that.

He took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers, kissing your skin. “I knew why you were saying it. You didn’t remember what you’d done. Truthfully, I didn’t want you to remember it.”

“It’s no excuse,” you choked out. “And my baby…” Your eyes welled up again. “Even she’s not safe with me.”

He cupped your chin with his free hand and turned you to look at him. “Yes, she is. Your ex was the trigger. Now that he’s gone, that lessens the trigger.”

“But what if she looks like him? Or sounds like him? Or what if she does something like Cindy did and says something to trigger me? Or what if like I told you, she cries too loudly or doesn’t put her toys away? She’s not safe.” Your eyes hurt from how much crying you’d been doing, you were surprised there were any tears left, but there were. You cried over Cindy. Sure, you didn’t care for her after overhearing her that day and finding out she’d been with Tom, only teasing you about his supposed crush on you because she never thought he’d give you the time of day and it allowed her to tease and flirt with him as well. But she didn’t deserve to die over it and certainly not like that. You didn’t cry too much over Miles but what you’d done. No human life deserved to be taken the way you had taken his. But you cried the most over what you’d almost done to your baby, what it meant, and how you’d have to let her go once she was born — if she was born.

“Listen to me, I’m going to keep you both safe, okay? Just like I promised.”

“And you,” you sobbed. “Why would you want to be with a murderer? A cold-blooded killer like me? What if I’d killed you? Or what if I do kill you? Tom, what I’ve done is bad enough but if I did something to you, I don’t think I’d ever come back from that. Or if I did something to my baby.”

He pulled you into his arms and you cried against his shirt. He moved in and gently nuzzled you despite the wetness and sniffling. “Because I know what it’s like.”

“What are you talking about, you know what’s like? Fearing going to sleep that you may not wake up from because your significant other might kill you? I know all too well what that’s like and I don’t want that for you.”

His jaw tightened but he shook his head, bumping his nose gently into yours. “No. I mean, I know what it’s like to have a trigger and not remember what I’ve done half the time, while leaving bodies trailing behind me.”

You hiccuped and pulled back to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He placed his forehead against yours. “Remember I never wanted to talk about my past?”

You nodded. “Yeah, you said it was too painful and I didn’t want to push.”

Tom let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. But I’m going to tell you everything, even when you don’t want to hear certain parts. I don’t remember a lot but I’ll tell you what I can. And I’m only going to gloss over my trigger, not go into full detail. I’m sure it would be fine, but I don’t want to even risk it. Okay?”

You took in a ragged inhale and buried your fingers into his shirt. “Okay.”

He smiled at you reassuringly and tenderly brushed hair out of your face. “Okay.”

<-->

Tom kept an eye on you while you slept, hugging onto his arm. Today was a big day for you in various ways and he wasn’t quite sure if you’d be triggered again.

He’d been completely honest with you, opening up to you about Harry and how trauma led to this other identity he had no control of. Truthfully, he’d been scared to even mention the name, afraid it would draw the other side of him out. During this whole time with you, from him finding you stabbing Cindy to death in your kitchen to now, he’d felt as if Harry was fighting to come to the surface and join in the fray. Of course, that was something the therapists he’d seen had told him wasn’t possible, but even burying Miles’ mutilated corpse and using the pickaxe again felt as if he were approaching a very dangerous line.

At some point after Harmony, he wasn’t quite sure how long, but he was in control again and Harry was nowhere to be found. He had a healing bullet wound as well as other scrapes on his head and face. He knew he could never go back to Harmony or even be Tom Hanniger again (especially after one internet search on a library computer), so he was forced to become someone else: a different Tom. He probably should have changed his first name, too, but he already had another identity waiting in the wings to take over again, he didn’t want another one he needed to worry about becoming, too. Even if it was only for paperwork reasons.

He moved to a new small town, far away from his old life, and began again. He stayed mostly to himself, kept under the radar as much as he could. He was able to find work, doing small odd jobs at first, and then finding work in basically being a handyman of sorts. He had gotten to know the townspeople that way as well as the town itself. He’d even sought help from a local therapist in the next town over whose resume boasted they specialized in DID. There, the therapist was able to help him understand the disorder better than any doctors in the institution had. He learned about triggers, working to reduce switches (as they called it), and how to overall take control of his life in more ways than one. He had been doing much better and there were no instances where he felt like he was missing time or there was something on the edge of his memories that he couldn’t quite remember.

And then he’d met you, completely by accident. He’d bumped into you in the hardware store, literally. You’d dropped what had been in your hands and seeing the slim curve of your stomach, he’d immediately crouched down to pick them up for you. He locked eyes with you and he could swear you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. He cleared his throat when he realized he’d been staring at you a little too long. He immediately apologized for bumping into you and you apologized, too. He noted what you had in your hand: spackle.

“If you don’t mind me asking, you’re not planning on doing any painting, are you?”

You glanced at the container in your hands. “Oh, this? Oh no. I can’t.” You gestured to your stomach. “But I read on a forum online that spackling is okay.”

He arched a brow at you. “Forum online?”

Your cheeks turned adorably pink. “Yeah,” you defended. “As long as it doesn’t have high VOC’s I think it said, I should be fine. Plus, I plan to wear a mask and open all the windows, air it out properly.”

“Uh huh,” he chuckled. At your frown, he held up a placating hand. “Sorry, I just…can’t your husband or boyfriend do that for you? So you don’t have to?”

Your cheeks turned red now. “Are you saying that I can’t do what they can?” You challenged.

“Nope. I’m implying that there are certain things you shouldn’t be doing while pregnant. That’s all.” You went to say something else but he cut you off. “I’m the local handyman, a fixer upper basically. If your other half is too busy, I can swing by and help you out.”

“Oh.”

He handed you his card, noting no ring sitting on your finger. That answered that particular question. “My cell phone number’s on there so call me anytime, day or night, and I’ll come by. Are you new in town?”

You studied his card. “Is it that obvious?”

He chuckled and held out a hand. “I’m Tom.”

You took it, smiling, and shook it. “Y/N.” Not only did he suddenly love that name but he loved the feel of your soft skin against his. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

You ended up calling him two days later to ask him about the spackling and his rates. Ever since your conversation with him in the store, you couldn’t get what he said out of your head and now you were worried the online forum was wrong. What he didn’t tell you is that he couldn’t get your conversation with him out of his head, but for a whole other reason.

After an agreed rate over the phone (he’d given you a break, calling it the newcomer discount so you wouldn’t question it or feel badly), he stopped by your house and you showed him where you needed the spackling done. There was a large crack in one of the walls of the living room high up. He couldn’t imagine you on a ladder with a mask trying to get this crack spackled — more like he didn’t want to imagine it. Cindy had been there, shooting him flirtatious smiles every time you turned your back, which he ignored. Cindy had been fun a time or two but he wasn’t interested in anything more than that, something he’d already told her long before he met you. Besides, he’d trade twenty of those flirtatious smiles for one of your warm genuine ones anyday. He’d thought you very pretty in the store but now he knew he’d been wrong; you were beautiful. And living all alone in this big, old house. It seemed like a crime to him though he was a little happy that you were single.

He got vibes early on that there was something in your past that you were running from. You were jumpy, slow to trust, and he could tell it took a little bit for you to feel comfortable with him alone in the house. He didn’t push and he appreciated your not pushing either when it came to his own past. But he liked being around you and he definitely liked you. It took some time but you eventually got to know one another and he was helping you slowly restore your home (mostly for free at this point, what he referred to as the friend rate which made you smile and shake your head, still insisting on paying him which he would refuse). You never talked about who the father of your baby was or where he might be, but it was obvious you were going about things on your own. He admired you for that and he loved watching you walk around, lovingly rubbing your bump that was getting bigger each week.

And then, on New Year’s Eve, after circling each other for months, you kissed him. From then on, he was yours. Even when you opened up to him about your past, all he wanted to do was protect you and the baby, be good to you, and be there for you both. He loved you well before he said it, which was after you had said it first because he hadn’t wanted you to feel any pressure whatsoever. Soon enough, you both had started talking about the future — particularly, the very near future. Tom wasn’t sure if he was ready to be a parent or if he’d even be a good one but he knew one thing: he loved you and your little girl very much. He’d do anything for you two and that was good enough for him.

Then came the day Cindy made the fatal mistake of setting you off. He still wasn’t sure if it was what Cindy said in the foyer or if she said something else to you when she came by later, but something caused you to snap. Tom had returned from the hardware store and had been shocked to find you covered in blood, violently stabbing the woman who appeared to already be dead. You weren’t a violent person by nature. You two hardly ever argued and if you did, it was resolved within minutes. He’d never seen you argue with anyone else. Even when you got moody occasionally, sure, he knew to tiptoe around you, but you didn’t even get mean. So he had no idea where the hell this had come from. But before he could get through to you to find out if you and the baby were okay, your piece of shit ex showed up. That had been the first night Tom had felt Harry swimming dangerously close to the surface, waiting to take over. No matter what any therapist said; he knew Harry was there, he could feel him, doing his best to take over though Tom fought it. If Harry took over, he would kill every living being in the room, and that Tom would not allow to happen. Especially not when you and the baby were in the same room.

Tom let you make the call on your ex (even though he didn’t completely understand it) and got you out of there. Later that night, when you passed out, he’d checked you for injuries as well as the baby. He didn’t find any except some shallow cuts to your arms. He gently cleaned them and he was determined to keep a close eye on you. When you finally came to the next day, he’d had no choice but to tie you up much like your ex to wait and see what you would do. He noticed you were you again though you were looking fearfully at him. He hated to see it but he also knew it could only mean one thing: you hadn’t remembered what you did. He didn’t need to be a therapist to realize that you might possibly have the same situation going on that he did. When you accused him of killing Cindy, it confirmed it, though he wondered how you knew she was dead. He chalked it up to you starting to switch back and seeing the carnage before he’d been able to get you out of that house.

So while Tom wasn’t a fan of it, he dangerously walked the line between himself and who he knew Harry to be. Your ex got the worst of Harry’s qualities: the violence, the ruthlessness, and the fury. You got the lower end of a few displeased glares and the raised volume of his voice once or twice. He didn’t know what he was dealing with just yet, though he suspected, and he hoped if he kept you you, even if you were fearful of him, he’d be able to figure out how to help you.

He didn’t agree with keeping Miles alive, especially since Miles was a threat to you and your baby and he had also seen what you’d done to Cindy. It was better to take care of him before he became an even bigger problem. While Tom didn’t relish taking a life, and he didn’t want to wake up Harry, it was clear that Miles needed to go. It was obvious that he was a trigger for you.

While he had been confused at your claims of grogginess, it soon became clear why you were really tired. You’d worried Tom the nights he’d woken up in bed, alone, and found you either hovering over Miles, taunting him, or watching him sleep. You’d even insisted he sit Miles up from where he’d left him in the corner the first night so the asshole could watch and listen. Watch and listen to what Tom hadn’t been sure of but when you told him to make love to you the next night, to be loud while loving you, he got a pretty good idea on what the listen part was. The following morning, he realized you wanted Miles to watch what was happening before his very eyes: you were being well taken care of, you were creating a family, and you were loved. EVen though you didn’t remember it most days, he tried to do right by you — both of you. The other side of you hadn’t told him her name yet, but he was waiting for it. The switches were only too obvious now.

You’d scared the hell out of him, though, the night he found you holding a knife over your stomach. He had already been assuring you that he loved your baby and you, that you would be a family, that your little girl was his. After that, he stepped it up while also hiding all of the sharp objects and anything that could be used as a weapon against yourself (or him) all over the cabin. Each morning, you’d never remember these incidents, though you’d held clear conversations with him and sometimes your ex.

Then you’d brutally killed Miles that night, another night Harry had been simmering on the edge. As he watched you take your revenge, when you kissed him, covering him in blood, then making love to him — that had been the closest Harry had come to breaching the surface since the night Miles showed up in your kitchen. The only thing that kept Harry back, Tom believed, was the recurring thought of you and the baby.

Miles being dead forced him to move up his timeline. He had this cabin for a while, only bringing you once to show you around, in case he had to ever grab you and run if your ex showed up (though he didn’t tell you that because he didn’t want to worry you). That was why he had replicated the nursery down to every single detail. You had worked so hard on that nursery, you were so excited when it was finished, that he hated for you to lose it should you have to run. So he slipped up to the cabin a couple of days a week when you weren’t with him, and worked on getting it set up. He had even stocked the kitchen in case (only buying perishables on your second trip up there when you were truly on the run). He’d also made sure to put a down payment on a small house some ways away in case you both needed a fresh start elsewhere. And that was where he was driving you now.

He’d meant what he said, if you wanted him gone, he would be, but he hoped you’d keep him with you. He was already worried about your breakdown from earlier today and your constant worry for your baby’s safety. Not to mention, your ex had been a cop. While they would most likely never find his body, they would associate his disappearance with you and you would always be sought after. And since Tom had disappeared with you, they’d either think you killed him as well or that he’d helped. So he’d alway be sought after as well. That had been one of the reasons he wanted to get out of Dodge as soon as possible but also, he wanted you as far from your main trigger as possible. And he also wanted to get you help, the same help he’d gotten (though he’d have to find another therapist now). Though he was pretty sure the baby was safe, like he kept assuring you, it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion, an official one.

He glanced down at you, his eyes softening as he took you in. He loved you deeply and he wanted to be with you. He loved your baby and he wanted to be there for her, stepping in as her dad if you’d let him like you had both originally planned. You had one more month to go until the baby arrived. He hoped this new house, this new life he was bringing you to made you happy. He was going to set up the nursery again for you and this time you’d have a real living room and dining room. The kitchen wouldn’t be so cramped or outdated and you would have a nice, comfortable mattress to sleep on at night. It may not be what your old house was but he would still make it as nice as possible for you. Once he sorted out your paperwork through an old contact of his, you would have access to doctors, the hospital — whatever you needed. The house had a nice backyard for kids to run and play in and the swingset came with the deal which was nice. Tom had even checked to make sure it was in a good school district and a safe neighborhood.

You moved in your sleep, cuddling his arm more and murmuring something he couldn’t make out. He smiled down at you and leaned over to drop a kiss onto your head before glancing back at the road.

He was going to take care of you. Both of you. And the baby. He would keep you all safe. Just like he’d promised.

#tom hanniger x reader #tom hanniger x female reader #tom hanniger #my bloody valentine fanfiction #my bloody valentine #tom hanniger fanfiction #prompt response #tom hanniger x you #tom hanniger x y/n #my bloody valentine fandom #jensen ackles #jensen ackles character #thebiggerbear

95 notes · View notes

thebiggerbear · 4 months

Text

Jason Teague x Reader - Prompt Response - "Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Summary: Jason has just helped you escape the clutches of his nefarious mother. Where will you go from here now that you know the truth?

Pairing: Jason Teague x Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. I wanted to dabble in the darker side of Jason's arc in the show and the mention of the stones, Lana, and his mom. There's such a clear line cut of when he turns from being a character that has your sympathies who is striving hard for some redemption we don't yet understand into being revealed as a calculating murderer who has severe mommy issues (I say that with love of course). The original ending was going to be much darker but I'll admit, once I got to it, I just couldn't do it. To Jason or Y/N. So I apologize if this has the feeling of crawling up to the dark edge to peek over it but then a backing off. Hope it's still okay, though.

A huge thank you to my beta Em for her services. You rock, girl!

Warnings: mentions of gun, implied violence, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of injuries, mentions of possible murder scenarios, mentions of infidelity

Word Count: 4761

Jason Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

<-->

Jason unlocked the motel room door and urged you in first as he glanced around, making sure no one else was around. Once you were in, he flipped the light on and moved towards the windows to draw the curtains closed. You remained where he left you, frozen in shock, and dripping on the cheap and questionable-looking carpet.

Both of you were soaked through. You’d gotten caught in the storm when Jason had freed you from captivity, hence beginning the run for your life. Thunder cracked above, causing the motel to shake, and you jumped slightly. You’d been hearing thunder for the last half hour, running in the downpour as lightning ripped through the skies overhead once Jason dumped the car he’d been driving. It was too risky to keep especially since he’d likely stolen it just for this mission alone, thus he’d simply grabbed a bag out of the trunk, tossed it over his shoulder, took your hand, and threw the keys out into the surrounding grass. Ever since, you’d been on the run, Jason leading you to the next town over. When you were both exhausted, Jason had decided on this motel, paid cash for a room, and now you were here. Alone. At any second, you could be taken away again since a certain someone wanted you out of the way and you had a figurative price on your head. Something told you that if you were taken again, this time it would be ensured that you wouldn’t actually survive it. They didn’t want to keep you tied to a chair or temporarily removed from the board — it was clear that they wanted you gone completely.

You watched Jason move around to further secure the place and, the shock wearing off, you slowly brought yourself to sit down on the edge of one of the beds, not caring that you were probably soaking through the bedspread. You stared into space as flashes of memories began to assault you. You hadn’t been physically tortured, but the things you were told, the things you’d been shown…well, all of that, you’d rather forget.

You heard a click that made your eyes snap up in Jason’s direction, seeing him checking his gun. That was something new, Jason not only being armed but also apparently being an expert marksman, something he’d proven when coldly and efficiently dispatching your guards. You highly doubted that either of them would ever walk properly again, and it was just one of the many new things you’d learned about your boyfriend these past three days; never in a million years would you have ever thought him capable of wielding a gun. You’d been dating him for six months and it turned out you never really knew him — the real him. Sure, you knew his name was Jason Teague, but you didn’t know just what kinds of things actually came with that name. And to think, you thought the Luthors were soulless, dysfunctional, greedy monsters.

You stared ahead at the dresser. In a small voice, you stated, “I should call Clark, let him know I’m safe. The Kents can call my parents and let them know I’m okay. Or I can call Lana…if you want.”

Jason stopped what he was doing and his gaze landed on you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his jaw clench and his lips press together. Truthfully, you were surprised he had even bothered rescuing you since it turned out you weren’t the only Smallville native he had been dating. How he managed to pull that one off you couldn’t be sure. Then again, he had managed to keep this side of himself under wraps up until three days ago when all the while, you’d never been the wiser. You were in love and happy, only seeing what he wanted you to see — how could he not be successful at keeping the fact that he was seeing one of your best friends hidden from you, too?

“You can’t,” Jason answered, his tone icy. “It’s too risky right now.”

You managed a slow nod, your eyes never lifting from the dresser. You’d expected as much and honestly, you didn’t want to drag your parents, the Kents, Clark, or anyone else into this mess. You refused to put them in danger; you’d die first, something that was likely going to happen soon anyway. It was probably better for them not to know the truth about what was going to happen to you. Lana… Well, Lana was already caught up in this whether she knew it or not. You just hoped she had a better chance than you did and that she got out of this. And you really hoped that if she found out the truth about Jason (and you really wanted her to) that she would be stronger than you to get past the pain of his betrayal and get as far away from him as she could. He was a walking death sentence and even though she had unknowingly participated in your heartbreak, you didn’t want that for her at all.

Jason crouched down in front of you but you refused to meet his eyes, instead looking down at your lap. “Let’s see those cuts.” You were numb when he pulled your hands to him and studied the indentations and burns the ropes had made on your wrists. He glanced up at you but you kept your gaze on your injuries. “They’re not as bad as I thought they’d be but they should still be cleaned.” He reached over to his bag and pulled out a first aid kit. You watched in confusion as he proceeded to clean your wounds and then bandage them with great care. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost think the old Jason, the Jason who’d come into the coffee shop you worked at every summer day to flirt with you until you agreed to a date, was starting to show through. But you did know better, and you knew that he was a far better actor than you’d ever given him credit for.

When he was done, he tenderly rubbed a thumb over one of the bandages. “There,” he murmured. This time, when he lifted his eyes to yours, you didn’t avoid his gaze. You tried to see the man you once knew who had actually held you as you cried when your divorced parents’ bickering and dramatics ruined your 18th birthday dinner; you had already been nervous-yet-excited beforehand because you were announcing that you and Jason were going to travel to Europe for two weeks. You’d always wanted to go, but it seemed to be only a dream — one that was out of your reach until Jason surprised you with two tickets to London as a birthday gift. The trip ended up being canceled later anyway because Jason suddenly had to fly to Paris on an urgent business matter for his mother, something that she was going to pay him for. He needed the money since his father had cut him off and he was starting at CKU in the fall. You’d offered to go with him, but he said he wouldn’t have any time for sightseeing, promising he’d call you often and bring you back some French souvenirs, swearing he’d pick out the best spots for you two to return to at a later date. He’d kissed you goodbye and gave you that brilliant smile of his, waving as he moved further into the airport. He ended up staying in Paris for weeks and when he came back, he seemed distant and a little busier, but you chalked it up to him starting classes and his new job right away. Now, obviously, you knew that that wasn’t the case, but as you stared into his jade-colored eyes, you didn’t see a trace of the Jason you’d met before that trip to Paris. He had never really existed, had he?

The real Jason, the one you’d come to know now, cupped your chin and studied your face from all angles. “We’ve been so busy running that I haven’t really had a chance to look you over. Did they hurt you?”

“Not physically.”

Jason’s eyes snapped to yours. “What does that—”

You got to your feet, the action knocking his hand away, and you moved towards the table he’d left the gun on. You stopped right before it and stared down at the weapon, almost as if it was mocking you by being there.

“Y/N.” You heard the familiar soft call of your voice and you briefly closed your eyes. If only you had never met him… Gentle hands landed on your shoulders and turned you around to face him, seeing the cold aloofness from before had all but vanished. “I need you to tell me. What did they—”

You decided you were done holding back. You’d been through hell the past few days, you were exhausted and depleted of any energy or motivation for anything else, and who knew how long you had? “You never really loved me, did you?”

His eyes widened. “What? Of course I love you, Y/N. I’m here, aren’t I? I went and got you out of there. I—”

“I wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for you.”

Jason’s face fell, appearing as if you’d slapped him, and then his expression hardened. “What did my mother say to you?”

Your gaze remained on him. “She told me everything.” You watched as that realization played over his features and his jaw tightened. “So, yeah, I know about the stones, you and Lana…” His eyes appeared to be slightly glassy (or maybe it was the lighting from the lamp behind you) as he cocked his head a little, looking at you, yet he didn’t even try to deny it. How could he? It was nothing but the truth, and worse, his mother had been the one to tell you that truth; how was that for irony? “When you canceled our trip, when you didn’t want me to go to Paris with you, how distracted you were when you came back, how busy you were — it really explains everything, doesn’t it?” His gaze softened slightly and he briefly hung his head. “I was just too stupid to see it.”

His head snapped up. “No,” he insisted, laying a hand on your cheek. “You weren’t stupid. I was. I should have let you go the moment I met Lana in Paris.”

Even though you thought your heart couldn’t break any more than it already had these past three days, it turned out you were wrong. Your eyes began to sting as tears built up in the corners. While you already knew of his two-timing, you didn’t think he’d come right out and just say it, and in such a blase manner to boot. And how easily you would have been tossed aside, as if you’d meant nothing…that hurt.

A hurt that mirrored your own flickered across his face as he gently cupped yours. “But I didn’t want to.”

“Why?” You choked out.

“Because you mean the world to me,” he murmured, placing his forehead against yours. “Because you’re what I want and I was too selfish to give you up.” He ran his nose along yours just like he used to and you involuntarily shivered. “I love you, Y/N. Always have.” His eyes dropped to your lips and when he leaned in, you pulled away and stepped closer to the table.

“No, you don’t. If you did, you never would have put me in danger or let me become mixed up in all of this while you pursued one of my best friends behind my back. You would have just left me alone in that coffee shop,” you gritted out, a tear slipping down your cheek that you quickly wiped away. “What was the point of it all, Jason? Was I just some distraction for you that you could drop at a moment’s notice when your mother called? And Lana,” You scoffed and wiped away another tear. “It would be one thing if you actually loved her, but you’re just using her to get the stones. You’re doing the same thing to her that you did to me. You used both of us! And for what? Some ancient stones that your mother believes are supposed to give her some sort of power? So that you make Mommy Dearest happy and can go back into the unhealthy Teague fold? What’s the motivation here?”

He swallowed compulsively as you laid bare his transgressions, yet his eyes never left your face. “I never used you.”

You huffed out a laugh of disbelief. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

His jaw tensed but he stayed silent.

You slowly nodded and after a moment, your eyes trailed to the gun on the table between you. “So when do you use that on me? When your mother tells you to, or when you’re finally done with me?”

You heard a tiny choked sound and you glanced up to find Jason staring at you in horror. He rushed over to you, causing you to stiffen, and he gripped your face as he searched your eyes. “I would never hurt you!” Too late on that count. He watched as another tear rolled down your cheek and his expression softened. “Y/N, I need you to listen to me,” he entreated softly, wiping away the tear with his thumb. “You were never supposed to know about any of this. I kept you at a distance when I came back because I didn’t want you becoming mixed up in this. My mother, she promised she’d leave you alone if I just…” He took a deep breath to compose himself. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I never wanted you to see this side of me. Ever. My plan was just to get her what she wanted, this last thing, and then I’d be free to come back here, be with you, and start over, live my life, but…” He shook his head. “I guess that’s all a moot point now, isn’t it?” A tiny smile played upon his lips, devoid of any mirth, as he let you go and turned his back to you, running a hand down his face.

You glanced once more at the gun, wondering if you should try to grab it but you weren’t sure if you were fast enough. And if you did get the gun, what then? Would you really be able to use it against him, to pull the trigger?

“If you want to walk out that door, I won’t stop you.” Your gaze snapped up to Jason’s back. “Just promise me you’ll take it with you.” You briefly flicked your eyes to the gun once more. “It’s fully loaded. And there’s plenty of cash in the bag. Take it all with you, run as far as you can until you can get safe, stay off the grid, and I’ll do everything I can to keep her from going after you. I’ll distract her with the stones, lie and say I killed you so she’s satisfied, whatever it takes.”

Your eyes widened at his words. Run? You didn’t know how to run or stay off the grid. Maybe you’d seen something like it in a movie once, but that was fiction, not reality. Did he really think Genevieve Teague would believe his lie about you? Granted, he was good at lying as you now knew but he wouldn’t be able to fool her. Unless she was right in what she had told you, that you never really mattered to Jason in the first place, so it wasn’t too far-fetched for her to believe that you’d be so easily disposed of without a second thought by her son. “And how long is that supposed to buy me, Jason?”

“There’s enough money in there for you to start over, to get a new life. You could go anywhere in the world you want. Canada, Cape Town, Tokyo, England.” At that, your eyes burned once more but you huffed out a breath of disbelief. “Anywhere you want to go.”

“And my parents?” You bit out. “My life? Graduating high school at the very least?”

“You making it out of this alive is more important than any of that.” Jason let out a sad sigh. “It’s my fault you’re in this now, that you’re in danger, but I promise I never wanted this for you. I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry, I really am.” He turned his head slightly back towards you. “I do love you, Y/N. I always have. I hope you believe me when I tell you that I always wanted to come back and have things be like the way they used to be. I miss those days more than you know,” he ended in a whisper.

“You can’t go back,” you whispered back.

You saw his shoulders drop slightly and he nodded. “I know.” His tone sounded defeated. “And that’s why you should go. But before you do, I need you to know one thing.”

You waited for him to say whatever he was planning on saying.

“You were never a distraction. That trip to Europe we were planning, those nights under the stars, everything we talked about, us…that was the real deal.”

Your lip wobbled and you bit down into it, trying to keep the tears at bay as a memory resurfaced of you and Jason lying on the hood of his car under the clear night sky. He showed you where all of the constellations were (initially, you only knew where the Big and Little Dippers were), and you’d both spoken about each of your dreams for your lives. After you’d excitedly pointed out a shooting star, he’d told you to close your eyes and make a wish. You did and that was when he kissed you for the first time. He’d breathlessly asked you about your wish afterwards and you’d smiled right at him, saying it came true. He’d given you that bright smile of his in return and leaned in to kiss you again, murmuring, “Mine too.”

Another memory shook loose of a night you’d stayed with him. He had been staying at a local B&B over the summer before his trip to Paris. When you two began to get serious, you’d taken to spending more time with him there, even sneaking out a time or two to stay the night unbeknownst to your parents. Nothing ever happened between you during that time but he would hold you and you both would laugh and talk and just enjoy being together. One such night, you’d fallen asleep but you had a nightmare. Someone was chasing you and you were running for your life. You ran into Jason telling him that you both needed to run, but he didn’t seem to understand the danger you both were in. He seemed distracted and looking elsewhere, not at you or where you were pointing. It wasn’t long until this unidentifiable assailant caught up to you and at the last second, Jason stepped in front of you, telling you to run right before he was killed in front of you. You’d woken with a loud gasp, your scream caught in your throat, and shot right up in bed.

Jason had immediately awoken and was trying to calm you down, to get you to breathe as he tenderly rubbed your back, and he kept telling you it was just a nightmare. You didn’t tell him what the dream entailed but you’d thrown your arms around his neck and held him close as he attempted to comfort you. Eventually, he’d laid you both back down, his hand gently running through your hair as you kept your head on his chest, your ear positioned perfectly over his beating heart to reassure yourself.

“It was just a dream, sweetheart,” he had hummed against your forehead. “I’m right here and you’re okay.” Hearing his soothing words and heartbeat, feeling the tender caresses of his hand up and down your back, you did start to drift back off, hoping against hope the nightmare didn’t continue. You weren’t sure how you’d endure a world without Jason in it, even just a dream world. Just before you’d fallen back into slumber, you’d heard him murmur sleepily to you, “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe.” You’d smiled and whispered that you loved him which caused him to smile as well and whisper the sentiment back to you. And he had — kept you safe, that is.

And now here you were, considering taking the gun and running for your life like you had in that nightmare, though this time was real and you would now also be running from his mother, from him. How had things gone so terribly wrong in only a few months’ time?

Another tear slipped down your cheek but this time, you didn’t wipe it away. “It was for me, too,” you admitted in a whisper.

Jason slowly turned back to you and you could see a recent tear track on his own cheek. “This was never supposed to happen,” he said softly. He drifted towards you and perhaps you were so caught up in memories that you didn’t back away or even tense up. Instead, when he laid a hand against your cheek, you leaned into it. Despite everything he’d said and done, despite how much he hurt you and your life had become a casualty due to his choices in his mother’s obsessive quest for a particular set of artifacts, your heart still yearned for him. When he moved even closer, leaning in to kiss you, you welcomed it. When more memories began to wash over you, of everything you had lost and would lose, you threw your arms around him and kissed him more passionately, tears rolling down your cheeks. Gone were the plans of you attending CKU with him; gone were the plans of you two moving in together, spending the holidays with your family, and traveling abroad to see all of the places you both wanted to see; gone was the future Jason had talked about wanting to have with you eventually down the road — all of it was just gone in a single moment of Genevieve Teague revealing who her son really was and just how much control she had over him. You supposed you hadn’t really had time to properly mourn the end of those dreams, of your relationship, everything you believed it had been — it only made sense to kiss it goodbye. Literally.

When you both broke apart for air, he laid his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. “I don’t want to let you go,” he whispered.

“Then don’t.”

His eyes snapped open in surprise. Truthfully, your words surprised even you. He lifted his head and looked down at you, his brows furrowing and his face lining with a mix of suspicion and confusion. Still, his green gaze lit with a dim gleam of hope.

“You don’t have to be this person anymore. You can give it all up and walk away. You said yourself that there’s more than enough money in that bag to start over somewhere new.” He went to say something when you framed his face with your hands, gazing up at him as earnestly as you could. “So do it. Make a different choice.”

He stared into your eyes. “Y/N,” he murmured. “I don’t know if I—”

His cell phone began to ring on the table, near the gun. You both turned to glance at it before turning back to each other. You silently pleaded with him to do as you’d suggested. He had made it sound so easy, that you could walk out that door and start all over — if it was that easy, why couldn’t he do the same? Your heart sank when he gently removed your hands from his face and began to move towards the table.

You swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in your throat and though your eyes burned with new tears, they didn’t fall. He watched you as he approached the ringing phone and picked it up in his hand. You felt numb as you took a step forward and picked up the bag, slinging it over your shoulder. It was clear that he wasn’t going to make a different choice, and it was clear that you were also screwed and needed to run like he’d told you. If his mother was calling him, then that meant she already knew he had helped you escape and she could be on her way right this second, or worse, right outside the door. You picked up the gun and you hated how it felt in your hands. It was heavy, sure, but also light enough that you could easily lift it and fit your finger inside the trigger handle at a moment’s notice. You’d never shot a gun before so you probably wouldn’t hit whatever or whoever you targeted, but at least you’d be able to wield it to an extent.

The next thing you knew, Jason hurled the ringing phone at the wall, making you jump as it loudly cracked into two pieces.

You turned wide eyes on him but he quickly approached you, his jaw clenched. For a moment, you wondered if you’d actually have to try to use the weapon in your hand to try to defend yourself, though you didn’t know if you had it in you to hurt him. Sure, you’d fight to survive, but your traitorous heart still loved him. Luckily, you were spared from having to make that decision when he snatched it out of your hand (which did make you a bit nervous at first) and cupped your face, his green eyes staring into yours, that slight hope from earlier now a blazing inferno mixed with determination. “A different choice,” he whispered, almost as if he was sounding out the words for the first time. After a moment, he gave you a slow nod, put the gun away, and leaned in to brush his lips against yours. “Let’s do it.”

“Really? You’re sure?” You breathed, your heart starting to lighten inside your chest.

A tender smile stretched across his face and he kissed you again. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah, I’m sure.” He kissed you one more time and took your hand, leading you to the door.

You stopped in your tracks, though, when a thought hit you. “My parents…”

“Let me get us out of here and we’ll decide what to do about letting them know you’re okay without tipping off my mother.”

You nodded, still beyond surprised that he had actually listened to you considering how tightly his mother seemed to have control over him. “Jason, are you really sure? Won’t your mother be even more upset if you leave and don’t help her with the stones? And what about Lana? I don’t want her to get—”

He laid a gentle finger on your lips and kissed your nose. “Like I said, let me get us out of here first. We’ll handle everything else after. Okay?” At your nod, he smiled again, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you could go anywhere in the world today, where would you go?”

You nearly smiled at the familiar question — it was similar to the one he’d once asked you, beaming right before he’d pulled out the two tickets to London from behind his back, making your eyes widen and you practically squeal with glee before launching yourself at him and pressing kisses all over his face, making him laugh. You could see his eyes soften slightly as you realized he was reliving the same memory.

This time, you gave it some thought before answering, “Iceland.”

“Iceland?” He asked, sounding pleasantly surprised.

You nodded. “It’s supposed to be beautiful there. I’ve seen pictures and I’ve always wanted to go. Plus, it never gets fully dark there.”

He tenderly stroked your chin with his thumb. “And we could see the Northern lights when it does,” he murmured.

“We’d never be fully in the dark, there’d always be light.” You pressed your lips together and stared up at him meaningfully. “I like the sound of that.”

He ran his hand gently over your hair and his affectionate smile grew as he nodded. “Then Iceland it is.”

#jason teague x reader #jason teague x female reader #jason teague x you #jason teague x y/n #smallville fanfiction #jason teague #smallville #prompt response #smallville fandom #jason teague fanfiction #jensen ackles #jensen ackles character #thebiggerbear

80 notes · View notes

thebiggerbear · 4 months

Text

Anael x Reader - Prompt Response - "Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Summary: Anael is not happy that you've agreed to help the Winchesters with their far-fetched plan to destroy Chuck via Jack. She reluctantly accompanies you to the Bunker and this sets events in motion that prompt a conversation between you and Dean on just why the angel is so important to you.

Pairing: Anael x Female!Reader; Anael x Huntress!Female!Reader; past-ish Dean Winchester x Female!Reader; Dean Winchester x Huntress!Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. I really wanted to play with this sort of triangle dynamic that popped up while I was writing. This is still an Anael x Reader one shot/prompt response but Dean's my boy and I really loved the backstory that developed between him and the reader which then led to Anael. Hope it all came together okay.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

There will be a note at the end.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Warnings: guns; implied threats of violence/killing; mentions of sex; torture; death; angst

Word Count: 10k+

Anael Taglist: @nancymcl; @brightlilith

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

You glanced to your right and rolled your eyes when you saw the angel who was currently sitting in your passenger seat, still fuming. You turned back to the road and gently tapped the steering wheel, wondering what you could say to get her to let this go. In the end, you decided to just be direct.

“Are you still upset about this?”

“Are you still going through with this ridiculous plan?” She snapped.

You bit your lip to keep from sighing in aggravation like you wanted to. You knew if she heard you do that, she’d never let up. “It’s not a bad plan…”

“Oh, yeah. Not a bad plan. Just have God’s sister trap him in the Winchesters’ basement. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to wait for the weapon that will kill him to arrive.”

You nearly winced at her biting sarcasm. She had a point; this wasn’t the best plan and it was definitely a long shot but it was all any of you had. Sam and Dean had asked for your help and you were determined to give it to them, no matter what might happen. They always had your back when you needed it. You were going to return the favor — pissed off angel alongside you or not. Not to mention if this didn’t succeed then the world was literally going to be over. You all had to try.

“Look, it’s not exactly the most…sound plan but it’s the best we’ve got. We have to do something, Ana. If we don’t, then it’s lights out. That’s it.”

“We,” she scoffed, turning to glare out the window with her arms crossed.

You tightened your grip on the steering wheel at the same time your jaw clenched. “Don’t do that.”

She turned back to you. “Are you really going to pretend that he doesn’t have something to do with this suicidal decision you’ve made?”

You kept your eyes focused on the road. “He does.” After her huff, you added unapologetically, “He will always matter to me. Even if the world wasn’t on the line, I would still be there if he asked me. He would do the same for me. That’s how it’s always going to be between us.”

A moment of tense silence passed before she spit at you, “Then you’re dumber than I gave you credit for.” She looked out the window again and you turned up the music, pressing your foot further down on the gas. The sooner you got to your destination the better.

You opened up the bunker door, allowing Ana to walk inside first. She hadn’t said another word to you for the rest of the car ride (something unusual for her), and barely even looked at you. You knew she was furious, at everything from this plan to what you’d said earlier, but it couldn’t be helped.

When you followed her, shutting the door behind you, and both of you came to a stop at the railing, glancing down, you didn’t know what you had expected to see. It certainly hadn’t been Jack Kline standing in the map room, staring up at you, with a hand raised. “Hello.”

You and Ana briefly glanced at each other and you gave the boy a nod. “Uh, hey Jack. Sam and Dean here?”

He shook his head. “They had a last minute case come up. Something about an old friend asking for help, I think.”

“Ironic,” Ana quipped.

Jack furrowed his brows at her, not understanding her meaning, while you shot her a look. Of course, she just smirked at you in response and you could feel your body tensing in the same aggravation you’d felt in the car. “Is Cas here?” You asked instead.

Jack went to speak when you heard, “I’m here,” before a familiar dark-haired man walked into the room. It had been a while since you’d seen him but he still looked the same. He was still wearing the trenchcoat and the suit, no matter how many times Dean tried to get him to change up his wardrobe.

“Hey, Cas.”

He gave you a nod of greeting before turning a small relieved smile on Ana. “Anael, you’ve decided to help us in this fight after all.”

“Don’t get too excited, Castiel. I’m only here because it turns out she’s just as smart as the Winchesters.” She gestured towards you.

You gritted your teeth. “Ana…”

She gave you that smile she always gave you when she knew she was getting on your last nerve.

Cas glanced back and forth between you, a sudden realization of something beginning to dawn on his features. Jack still looked somewhat confused but also curious.

You cleared your throat. “So, any idea when the boys will be back?”

“Soon. I believe they just wrapped up their case and they’re headed back. They should be here by nightfall,” Cas supplied.

You gave him a wan smile as he appeared to study you intently. “Well, I’m starved. Got any food in that big kitchen of yours?”

“We have a lot of food,” Jack offered, trying to be helpful. “Sam went shopping the other day.”

“Great,” you responded with a little too much enthusiasm. “Let’s see what we’ve got.” You ignored Ana watching you in disapproval and Cas’ penetrative gaze as you descended the steps and followed Jack to said kitchen. Let Ana deal with whatever thoughts Cas might put voice to — you’d had enough angel judgment for one day.

You and Jack were just putting the finishing touches on shepherd’s pie (the only thing you knew how to make outside of eggs and grilled cheese if you were being honest) when Sam and Dean returned home.

You had spent most of the day avoiding Cas and thankfully, when Ana joined you in the kitchen, she chose to relegate any commentary she made to your cooking skills (or lack thereof) alone. There was tension thick in the air but whether it had to do with what was going on in the background, Ana’s animosity towards you, or a mixture of both, you had no idea. Cas had eventually strode into the room, curious and happy to watch you teach Jack how to make the one dish your Grams had taught you to make. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him smile when Jack asked you why it was called shepherd’s pie if the recipe didn’t come from any shepherds. Despite his questions, Jack seemed to be enjoying himself, learning something new and taking his mind off of what was coming. You felt badly for the kid; he was going to sacrifice himself to save the world. You couldn’t even imagine the weight of that burden on his young shoulders, Nephilim or not. So you were happy to provide a little distraction for him as well as yourself.

“Cas? Jack?” You heard Sam call.

“We’re back,” Dean added.

Cas was immediately on his feet, looking towards Ana and then you, before hurrying out of the room. You had to wonder what that was all about. It wasn’t as if the brothers weren’t expecting you. Plus, you were pretty sure Cas must have texted or called them to give them a heads up that you were here.

Ana turned back to you, her jaw tight and giving you a look. You rolled your eyes and helped Jack get out a stack of plates to set the table with. When you were done, you noticed Ana had stood up and moved away from the two of you, creating distance. Your own jaw clenched when you saw it. Why did she have to be so difficult sometimes?

“No plate for you?” You threw at her, knowing very well she wasn’t going to eat since she didn’t need to.

“Not just yet.”

Your brow creased in confusion. What was that response?

You didn’t have much time to think about it, though, because Dean and Sam rushed into the room, with Cas right behind them.

“What the hell are you doing here, Jo?” Dean boomed, heading right for Ana and carrying an angel blade.

“Dean,” Cas called, trying to get in front of him.

You watched as Ana raised her hand and sent both Winchesters flying backward, knocking them on their asses, and more importantly, the blade out of Dean’s hand.

“Anael,” Cas warned.

“I’m just supposed to allow them to kill me, Castiel? I don’t think so.”

You were torn. You wanted to rush over to the boys, make sure they were alright, but another part of you was telling you that you needed to get closer to Ana. What if she was right and Dean had really meant to kill her just then?

Both Winchesters were already up, Dean glaring at Ana. “You almost got us killed! Sending us to Hell on that wild goose chase! Hell, you almost got Cas killed!”

“He had to go to The Empty to ask Ruby where the Occultem was!” Sam added, thrusting a finger at her. “He almost didn’t make it back!”

“You’re Jo?” Jack asked, his expression hardening. “I thought your name was Anael.”

Ana didn’t spare him a glance. “That’s my angel name. Sister Jo is my brand, you could say.”

“Occultem?” You whispered, not ever having heard of it before though you tried racking your brains.

Ana flashed you a look, silently telling you she would fill you in later, before resting her eyes on the two men again. “That was a priceless item. You didn’t really expect me to give it up so easily for your little war with God, did you?” Her brown eyes narrowed. “No matter how much better looking than him you might be.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head and turned onto Dean who still hadn’t noticed your presence yet. He was glaring straight at Ana and you noticed the blade was back in his hand. When had you missed him picking it back up?

“You shouldn’t have come here,” he said in an all-too familiar menacing tone, before he began moving forward again, Sam right behind him with his own angel blade. Cas tried to put up a placating hand but he was ignored. Jack watched as it all happened, glowering in Ana’s direction now, not making a move to stop his dads. Your brain shut off and before you knew it, you were in front of Ana, gun raised.

Dean stopped short, his eyes slightly widening as he finally saw you. Sam’s did, too. You were sure they highly doubted you would be on opposite sides over an angel, with a gun pointed at them no less.

“Put the blades down,” you ordered.

You watched as Dean’s green eyes briefly softened upon hearing you speak but then hardened again when he realized you meant business. Something was now layering his expression that looked an awful lot like betrayal. “You’re protecting her?” He asked in disbelief. “What the hell, Y/N?”

You could feel Ana right behind you, her energy filling the air. She was charged up and you felt a familiar static electricity feeling at your back. You wouldn’t be surprised if her eyes were doing their usual glowing trick right about now.

“This is what I was trying to tell you before you two charged in here.” Cas stood next to Dean, looking at him and Sam.

“Tell us what?” Dean demanded.

“She’s with me.” All three glanced over at you, Cas giving a subtle nod as he dropped his gaze. Sam wasn’t sure what to make of it but you noticed him starting to lower the blade in his hand. Dean kept glaring between you and Ana over your shoulder. Only when Cas urged him with a quiet “Dean”, nodding towards the blade in his hand, did he finally put it down. “You’ve gotta be freaking’ kidding me,” he growled before storming out of the room. Cas briefly glanced over at you before following him. Jack, who now scowled in your direction as well as Ana’s, slowly left the room. You lowered your gun, disappointment starting to swell in your chest. So much for a nice, quiet family dinner then.

Only Sam was left and he looked torn between wanting to follow his family and coming over to give you a hug like he normally would. You made it easy for him. “It’s okay, Sam. I understand. Go.”

He pressed his lips together, giving you a sad look, before he nodded and left the room as well.

You let out a heavy breath and hung your head. The Winchesters were the only family you had left and now…it looked like they were gone, too.

You felt a hand gently lay on your shoulder, the electric charge from before gone, and you slowly lifted your head. “We should go,” you whispered after a minute. Ana let you go and you turned to throw on your jacket, sling your bag over your shoulder, and then you led her out of the room. You kept your gun handy in case it wasn’t just a straight pass to the stairs. Thankfully, it was and a piece of your heart broke that Dean hadn’t even given you a chance to explain before he’d written you off for good.

You kept your eyes on the road as headlights repeatedly washed over you from passing cars in the opposite lane. It was deathly quiet, you having chosen not to turn on the radio. Your thoughts kept going back to the betrayal you’d seen in Dean’s face when he realized you weren’t going to let him get to the angel standing behind you. While Ana wasn’t Cas, didn’t he understand how things like this worked by now? Even when you’d been together for a period of time, you’d bore witness to his profound bond with Cas playing out repeatedly. You’d seen Cas’ effect on Dean and vice versa, today even.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

You heard Ana’s quiet words that seemed to be laced with a shocking mix of surprise and what sounded like awe. You didn’t know why; it wasn’t anything you hadn’t done before when you two fought side by side. “Do what?” You decided you’d rather play dumb than talk about the elephant sitting between you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the red-headed angel giving you a look. “Don’t. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You shouldn’t have put yourself at risk for me.” She knew what it cost you and how badly it was tearing you up inside. And to think she had been worried about Chuck, the plan, Jack, and even Dean, though for a whole other reason on that last one.

You shrugged. “That’s what we do. It’s what you’ve done for me. Why wouldn’t I?”

You turned in time to see the surprise you’d heard earlier now taking up residence in her expression. It was a fleeting glimpse you caught right before she schooled her features and focused on the highway instead.

You did the same and you finally spoke the question that had been burning your tongue for the last hour into existence. “So, are you going to tell me about the Occultem and why they’re pissed at you enough to want to kill you? I sort of got an idea from earlier but I want to hear it from you.”

You heard a familiar scoff and if you weren’t so torn up inside, you might have smiled. It was nice to hear her annoyance not aimed at you for once this entire day. “They ambushed me at my place of business, threatened me, and then expected me to hand them the Occultem on a silver platter. Just like that. That’s what happened.”

“I think there’s a little more to it than that, Ana.” You glanced over at her. “Start from the beginning.” When she narrowed her eyes in your direction, you spoke before she could. “You owe me that at the very least,” you muttered.

You turned back to the road and you weren’t sure if she saw the pain you were feeling (most likely since she always seemed to be able to see right through you; it was annoying most of the time), but she agreed. “Fine.”

You swallowed down the lump that had formed in your throat at the thought track repeating in your head of “You’re protecting her? What the hell, Y/N?” and the images of Dean’s back as he walked away from you. You were happy to focus on something else and Ana’s voice actually began to soothe you as it filled the car.

You didn’t know how but somehow you knew everything was going to work out, Chuck ending the world or not.

You heard a familiar rumbling outside your motel room door and you quickly glanced in Ana’s direction. She looked up at you from her chair, money in her hands that she had been counting from her last service, and you gave her a nod. You threw your jacket on, keeping the gun in your pocket and easy to reach just in case. “Be careful,” you murmured.

“You first.”

You pressed your lips together and turned back to the door. You took a deep breath before you opened it and stepped out, seeing Dean shutting the car door and meeting your eyes. He didn’t appear to be armed and he was alone as he’d claimed he would be when he called you earlier, asking where you were so you two could talk. You weren’t one hundred percent sure it wasn’t a trap, which you absolutely hated thinking, but after Ana told you what she’d done to them and their reaction to her earlier…well, you could see why they weren’t exactly thrilled with her. And if they didn’t try to hurt her, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t do a blood sigil and banish her to someplace far away from you. You were on high alert for any possibility.

“Hey,” he gruffed out.

“Hey.” You shut the door behind you and stuffed your hands in your pockets.

You didn’t see any traces of the betrayal or hurt or anger that you’d seen earlier so that was a good sign. His green eyes were no longer hard when they focused on you. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

“I can’t. Have to stay close.” You gestured back to the room. It was something Ana had asked you to do when you went over possible contingencies after Dean’s call but she hadn’t needed to; you already planned to stay within running distance if you needed to get back right away.

Dean’s jaw clenched when he looked towards the room. “So, she’s got you on a short leash, huh?”

You huffed a snort, shaking your head. “Goodbye, Dean.” You began to turn back to the room, thinking this had been a colossal waste of time which just broke your heart further.

“Y/N, wait! I— I’m sorry.”

You spun back around to face him, glaring.

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” you bit out.

Dean licked his lips and momentarily moved his gaze around until he settled on something to his left. “What about over there? Is that close enough?”

You glanced where he was inclining his head towards. Across the parking lot sat what looked to be a makeshift pergola gazebo or something they’d tried to make into one anyway. A wooden picnic table sat under it and there were some lights haphazardly hung on the edges up top, snaking around the thin posts. You gave him a nod of agreement, it was private enough but still kept you close.

You waited for him to start walking and as you followed, you glanced around, making sure no one was trying to sneak their way up to your door or that there were any warning signs of an impending ambush. “Looks clear,” you mentally prayed to Ana. “But keep your guard up.” For a moment, you wished you also had the angelic super hearing she had or the ability to tune into Angel Radio to be able to hear her back.

Dean took a seat on the table and you did the same, keeping some distance between you. He noticed it and his jaw clenched again. “Really? You’re that pissed at me?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line as you thought it over, and then you moved slightly closer.

He let out a snort. “Didn’t realize that much had changed between us.”

You stared out over the highway. “It did.”

Dean studied you for a moment and then followed suit. “Yeah, well, probably for the best.”

You could feel a familiar stinging in the corner of your eyes. Dean always had the ability of using words to hit you where it hurt the most. “Probably.”

There was a moment of tense silence between you before he spoke again. “Cas mentioned things might be different now…for you.”

You shrugged but didn’t respond. At this point, you just wanted him to spit out what he came to say and leave. Which was indeed different from how you usually felt about getting alone time with him, but he was being a dick.

Almost as if he heard your thoughts, he turned to look at you. “I’m not trying to be a dick, Y/N. I’m really not. But all this time and you never told me once that you had an angel riding shotgun with you? The same angel who tricked us and took Lucifer’s side, and then tricked us again and almost got us all killed?”

You looked over at him with a scoff. “When was I supposed to tell you, Dean? In between Chuck trying to end the world and you helping with Jack’s powering up regimen so he can take him down? Or during Michael’s mindwalk inside your head? When was I supposed to tell you? We never talk anymore.”

“That’s not true,” he argued.

You got to your feet, glaring at him. “Yes, it is! The only time I hear from you is when you need something.” You ignored Dean’s angry expression and continued. “When you need help for a case, information, whatever it is. That is the only time I hear from you!”

“Yeah, well, it’s a two-way street. When was the last time you called just to check in? Tell us how you’re doing? When?”

You let out a laugh of disbelief. “You told me we were done, Dean! Right after Michael possessed you the first time. You remember that?”

Now he was on his feet, too, scowling at you. “Me saying we were done didn’t mean we were out of each other’s lives forever! If I didn’t call you about hunts or Sam didn’t call you to ask you to keep an eye out for something wherever you were, we wouldn’t even know you were still alive!”

That last word made you wince. You tried to hide it but Dean saw it. He let out a breath and the next time he spoke, he was no longer yelling. “You can blame me all you want, Y/N, but you didn’t tell Sam, either.”

“There was nothing to tell,” you mumbled, sitting back down on the table, refusing to look at him.

He gave you a look before sitting back down next to you, closer than before. “Look, I didn’t come here to fight. I want to clear the air. You’ve never pulled a gun on me before.”

You arched your brows over at him. You had done it quite a few times over the years, when he was a demon being the most recent.

“Not on me,” he clarified.

You turned back to the road but didn’t say a word.

He laid a gentle hand on your knee. “I want us to be good, Y/N. You’re family…and you’re still important to me.”

You briefly closed your eyes in pain. It had always been a tough balancing act, straddling the line of family and you and Dean being something more to one another. Even before you got together and made it official. Even back when you were teenagers. But ever since he put an end to your relationship, it had become almost impossible for you to continue doing. But he was right…you both were still family, and you didn’t want him shut out of your life. You had been broken-hearted at the thought of it not a mere hour ago before he’d called.

You covered his hand with yours. “I know. You’re still important to me, too, and you’re right, we’re family.”

Dean's eyes were transfixed on your hands until he glanced up at you, his eyes softer than before.

You squeezed his hand. “We’re good.” You gave him a nod and let him go, waiting a moment before you added, “As long as you leave Ana alone.”

He shot you a look but you never glanced away. He needed to know you meant it.

Dean sighed, studying you. “For now,” he agreed.

“Dean, that’s—”

“That’s all you’re getting out of me.” He rubbed his thumb over your knee. “Unless you tell me what happened.”

You dropped your gaze to your lap. “Why do you want to know about that? I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Because,” Your eyes lifted to his, hearing the breaks in his voice. “I need to know why Cas sees the claim she has on your soul.”

Crap. You should have known from how Cas was studying you since you’d set foot in the Bunker. “It’s not what you think,” you started.

“Then what is it? Because it looks to me like she tricked you into selling your soul to her.”

You moved your knee from under his hand and pulled away. “That’s not what happened. She didn’t trick me.”

“Then what did happen?” He cupped your cheeks and forced you to look at him. “Y/N, talk to me,” he implored. “I need to know what’s going on.”

You thought it over for a moment, realizing you really didn’t have a way around this, now that Dean knew. And truthfully, you didn’t really want one, though you still felt the heavy weight of shame wrapped around you, something you knew would be even heavier by the time you finished explaining.

You grabbed his hand and turned to kiss his wrist before getting to your feet. Dean let you go and you took a few steps away, your arms crossed and your back to him, taking a deep breath. “Do you remember the witch who killed my family?”

“Yeah, back in Phoenix. Dad tried to track her down after but couldn’t. Why?”

You pressed your lips together. “I found her.” You didn’t need to turn around to know Dean was frozen in shock. “I came across her during another case.”

Dean was in front of you before you could blink. “Please tell me you didn’t take her on alone.”

You stared at him, saying nothing.

“Dammit, Y/N! You should have called us! What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking the bitch had killed my family and I wanted her dead.”

He shook his head, angry at you as you knew he would be. “But you don’t go it alone! We’ve talked about this. Never alone!”

“Yeah, I know and you’re right, alright? But I’m standing here in front of you now so do you want me to finish the story or not?” You snapped.

His jaw clenched and he glared at you but remained quiet.

You let out an aggravated breath. “I didn’t have time to call anyone else. I didn’t want her to escape and be in the wind again so the hunter I was with at the time, Carrie, she and I went after her.” Dean briefly closed his eyes but kept his gaze on you. “She had a pack of werewolves she was working with and she set them on me. I killed a few but there were too many. They ripped me apart. Carrie, too.” You felt a lump begin to form in your throat at the thought of the hunter you’d gotten killed but you swallowed it back down. “They were about to finish me off when two other hunters showed up. Carrie thought we might be going into a trap so she called them while I was gearing up. There were still too many werewolves but they managed to get us out of there. They drove us straight to this church in the next town where a faith healer had set up shop. The rumor going around the hunter community at that time was that this healer might actually be an angel, one of the fallen.” Your eyes began to well up. “Carrie didn’t make it.”

Dean briefly dropped his gaze down to the ground.

“I almost didn’t and honestly, I wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for Ana. She healed me.” You nearly winced thinking about the next part you would have to tell him. “Once I was up and moving around again, I didn’t want the witch to disappear and she already had a hell of a head start so I asked Rick, one of the hunters that helped us, if he knew of a crossroads in town.”

You saw Dean’s lips part in shock and then his eyes hardened. “Are you kidding me? After everything Sam and I told you, after everything you saw happen with my deal, you still—”

“You didn’t hear the screams my sister made when she was dying, Dean!” He pressed his lips into a thin line but didn’t say anything to that. How could he? Sure, he’d seen people die in some of the worst ways imaginable since becoming a hunter, but he also saw the nightmares you had for years afterwards. They all had.

Dean had held you as you shook in terror, crying into his neck as he tried to assure you that you were safe. There were many nights your cries had woken Sam up as well and he’d slip into Dean’s bed, laying his head on your back and hugging you from behind while you sobbed and his brother whispered reassurances to you. If John was around when the nightmares happened, he’d keep quiet while his sons comforted you but the next morning, he’d let you pick the music you wanted to hear and would offer you to ride shotgun if you wanted. You would choose Dean’s favorite Led Zeppelin tape every time and sit in the back, opting to let Sam take the front. Dean would hold your hand and rub tender circles into your skin while you stared out the back window of the Impala until you would get sleepy and rest your head on his shoulder. Dean, Sam, John — none of them could keep the nightmares away, but they made you feel safe again after you’d lost your family. They became your family and John trained you to become a hunter just like his boys.

Tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. “She was only six years old!” You had to watch as the witch had liquefied her insides, causing as much pain and torment as possible. You’d not only heard her painful screams but the terrified yells of your mother as she also witnessed your sister’s death before the witch moved onto your older brother. John got there in time to save you, the last one left; you’d had to watch and hear them all die — your parents, your siblings — helpless to do anything since you were magically bound. “I would have done anything to get that bitch and make sure she never hurt anyone else ever again.”

Dean’s fist clenched at his side but he nodded. He understood; you knew he did.

“As it turns out, I didn’t get that far. Ana overheard our conversation. Rick was trying to talk me out of it but I was insistent. She pulled me to the side and told me that if I was going to throw my life away to go after the hag, then she had a one-time offer for me. She offered me the same deal a crossroads demon would have: my soul for the witch. But instead of ten years, there would be no ticking clock over my head, no monsters from Hell would come to drag me down to the pit, and once I died, whenever that would be, my soul would belong to her and her alone. No Heaven, no Hell, just hers, to do with as she wished.”

“Y/N,” Dean let out in a broken whisper. You could see this was killing him but you had to finish explaining, make him understand. As ashamed as you were, you still wanted him to know the truth.

“I took it, Dean.”

A tear dropped down his cheek and you fought every impulse you had to reach over and wipe it away.

“And she kept her part of the bargain. She packed up and traveled with us to where the witch was hiding out. We caught them off guard. Rick and Layla finished off the rest of the werewolf pack and Ana stayed with me. The witch used some sort of spell to banish Ana and then it was just me and her.” You knew this next part was going to hurt him but you had to say it. “She killed me, Dean.”

He stared at you in horror.

“The same way she killed my family. I felt everything they did.” You were looking through Dean now, awash in memories. “You see, she recognized me and she decided to finish me off the same way she did them. I heard her laughing in the background while she... The pain alone…” You came back to yourself with a jolt, realizing you were no longer in that place, writhing in agony on the floor as your insides burned and turned to liquid, blood pouring from your eyes, nose, and mouth as you screamed and screamed. “The next thing I remember, Ana was crouching over me. She had healed my body and put my soul back inside.” You whispered the last part in awe. That part of the story still inspired wonder for you, even now.

“She had overpowered the witch somehow when she was able to get back to us. Ana left her for me to deal with and deal with her, I did.” You clenched and unclenched your jaw at the memory of the bitch’s screams of agony before you finished her off. You made sure she felt everything your family did, everything you had, and Ana had been more than willing to help you.

“You died?” Dean choked out.

You glanced up at him and noticed the devastation in his expression, his eyes still wet. “For only a few minutes,” you tried to reassure him. He didn’t need to know that it had been a little longer than that. You could see how torn up he was already now that he knew what happened to you. “The witch’s spell wasn’t as effective as an angel banishing sigil so Ana was able to come back pretty quickly.”

You watched as he reached for you, cupping your cheeks and pulling you into him. His lips were on yours before you could react and you let him kiss you, feeling his desperation, knowing he was reassuring himself that you were okay, here in his arms, alive. When he finally broke away from you, he gently grasped your arms and laid his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes. “I should’ve never let you go,” he whispered. “I was only trying to keep you safe, I’m sorry.”

Your brows furrowed slightly. “Dean, what are you talking about?”

He sighed and pressed a tender kiss to your nose before lifting his head. “When Michael let me go the first time, I was scared he was going to come after everybody I cared about so I…” You saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “I ended it between us.”

Your jaw dropped. “Why would you do that? I could have helped you track him down!”

“Because I wanted you safe!” He yelled in exasperation. “I didn’t know what Michael was gonna do, okay? I didn’t want you getting caught in the crossfire!”

“You don’t get to make that decision for me!” You argued.

“Yeah, I do, because I love you, goddammit!” He looked just as surprised as you felt by his accidental admission.

His words hit you like a semi on a slippery freeway. A part of you wanted to respond and the other part…the other part wanted to skip right past it as if it had never been said. Especially when you thought back to the heartbreak you’d felt when he coldly told you that you were done and he needed some space, implying you needed to leave the Bunker asap. No explanation, no goodbye, just…done.

The lump was back in your throat again, forcing you to swallow it back down. “Yeah, well, that still doesn’t give you the right to do what you did.” You crossed your arms and looked away from him, back towards the motel, so he wouldn’t see the tears building in your eyes at his declaration that you would have given anything to hear more than a year ago. You saw the Impala still parked where Dean had left it and you remembered it was facing your room and who was in that room. Too little, too late now.

You felt Dean’s fingers gently grip your chin and turn your head back towards him. His green eyes were glistening, full of a deep sadness you’d only seen before when he talked about his mom and their family back in the day or when he’d finally managed to tell you about his time with Lisa and Ben. “And it didn’t keep you all that safe, did it?” The corners of his lips tipped up in a remorseful smile.

You watched him for a moment and then lifted up on your toes, gripping his face to kiss him. You put everything you felt for him into it, not wanting him to ever doubt just how much of a hold he still had on your heart. When you pulled back, you looked into his eyes and spoke truly. “I love you, Dean. I’m always going to love you. You’re the love of my life.” His eyes softened at your words. “But things are different now. I’m different. And things will never be as they were before.” You ran your thumb tenderly over his lips before stepping back, putting more distance between you.

You saw as he tried to recover from what you’d said, nodding and turning from you to run a hand down his face, effectively wiping away the wetness from his stubbled cheeks. You heard a quiet sniffle and gave him a moment.

“And, uh,” You glanced up at him. “What about your soul? Cas said you still have her mark. Are you still stuck in some deal?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Not technically. It’s there as more of a failsafe.”

“Failsafe?”

“In case something happens to me, then my soul goes to her. Just like it did the last time.”

“And what if something happens to her?”

You frowned, not liking that possibility being voiced, especially given the current circumstances. Plus, you wouldn’t put it past Dean to be thinking over options to free you. “Then the mark disappears. But then it’s anybody’s game.”

“But you’d be free,” he insisted.

Your jaw clenched and you lifted your chin defiantly. You knew it; you knew Dean and the way he thought way too well. You’d been trained together and hunted together for years, after all. “I don’t want to be free. Not the way you’re implying.”

His brows drew together in confusion. “Why wouldn’t you want to be free?”

“You have Cas. You should understand.”

“Cas doesn’t own my soul, Y/N. That’s completely different.”

“Is it?”

“Uh, yeah, I’d say it is.”

He obviously didn’t get your meaning, or he was trying hard not to. You decided to let it go. “We may not have the profound bond that you and Cas do, but what we have works for us. Let’s just leave it at that.”

He scrubbed at his jaw, staring at you, before closing the distance between you again. This time you expected it when he kissed you and you held onto his jacket, kissing him back. You hadn’t lied before; he was the love of your life, deep within your heart, and he always would be. “If you ever want out of this, you call me,” he whispered.

You nodded, closing your eyes when he leaned in to kiss you again. You knew you wouldn’t be making that call but you knew he would refuse to let you go unless you gave him that reassurance. He rubbed his nose along yours and you nearly smiled at the memory it produced from when you two used to make out as teenagers.

“What about the plan for Chuck? And Amara? Do you still want my help with that?”

“No, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I want you as far from here as you can get. Just in case things go South.”

You stared up at him sadly. “Dean, I know you and Ana have history but she’s only there to protect me. We could help.”

“That’s not it. If this plan doesn’t work, with Jack, then we’re all screwed.”

You tugged at his jacket with your hands. “Which is why you can use all the help you can get.”

“Y/N, you can’t help on this one.” You were about to protest when he spoke again. “Not this time.”

“Then why did you call me?”

He gave you a sad smile and you felt his arms tighten around you. ‘Why do you think?”

Memories flashed through the forefront of your mind:

…“Blaze of Glory” by Bon Jovi playing in the background of the Impala and Dean singing it into your ear as you fell asleep on his shoulder in the backseat,

…Conversations with him and Sam about how you all would like to go out fighting if you had a choice on how you’d die as a hunter,

…Dean holding your bare body to his in the bed of a motel room that he’d been able to secure after a few successful games of Pool while John was on a hunt, with Sam in the next room and you two having just lost your virginities to each other, murmuring how he wanted to keep you with him always, believing that you’d fallen asleep,

…Him cuddling up to you in the Dean Cave during a western you’d seen a thousand times (because it was one of his favorites) and him telling you that he and Sam would be Butch and Sundance but you would be Etta Place which would cause you to frown and him to then grumble that you could be his Sundance which would earn him a kiss on the cheek while Sam rolled his eyes.

You knew right then that he didn’t fully believe Billie’s plan would work, though he hoped it would. Which meant you might never see him again. Because there was no way Chuck wouldn’t be pissed at the attempt and come right after him and Sam.

Your vision began to blur with the building tears and you gave him your own sad smile. “And now you’re sending me away? Again? That’s not how it’s supposed to go. Remember?”

He wiped your cheeks with both thumbs. “You said it yourself, sweetheart, things are different now. Besides, Sam and I talked it over before I came out here. He agrees. We both want you somewhere safe.”

“So you’re making me Etta Place again?” You choked out.

“Baby,” A tear made its way down his cheek. “You were never supposed to be anyone else.”

You sobbed out a laugh and hugged him tightly, not wanting to let him go. “You could come with us. You and Sam and Cas and Jack. You could leave this all behind and come with us. Just as long as you don’t pick Bolivia.”

He chuckled into your ear. “I wish I could, sweetheart. Chuck would find us wherever we tried to go. Billie’s plan is the best we’ve got. We’re going to see it through. And the only way I can do that,” He pulled back from you and held onto your arms, rubbing soothing circles into them with his thumbs. “Is if I know you’re far away from here. She’s another dick angel in my book and I don’t trust her, but if she’ll keep you safe, then that’s all I care about right now.”

You nodded and sniffled. “Are you sure I can’t change your mind?”

He framed your face with his hands and shook his head.

More tears spilled down your cheeks. “I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you, too, sweetheart. Always have,” He pulled you into an embrace and kissed the side of your head. “Always will.”

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that for but he held you until the tears finally stopped flowing. You were ashamed at how easily you had been willing to dismiss him from your life after he had broken your heart, after he’d threatened Ana, and now you might never see him again. Your heart literally felt torn in two. A part of you wanted to go with him, no matter how he or Ana might protest, no matter if you ended up dying, but the other part wanted to give him what he asked for. So he could have peace of mind and be able to focus on the plan if for nothing else.

You had loved Dean Winchester since you were ten years old. You knew in that moment, just as you did back then and all of the time between, that you would love him for the rest of your life, however long that might be. He would always have a piece of your heart, even if your soul belonged to somebody else.

<-->

You watched as Dean backed Baby out of her spot in front of your room and you gave him a wave. He’d wiped away your tears, kissed you goodbye one last time, and told you to haul ass out of Kansas by morning. He’d promised to call you the following evening with an update.

Once he was speeding down the road out of sight, you opened the door, letting out a breath of relief to see Ana still sitting where you’d left her. You knew Dean didn’t mean her any harm at the moment, but you weren’t sure just how much of your goodbye with Dean she’d actually heard. Probably everything, if her stare was anything to go by.

“I take it you heard everything?”

“I did.” She got to her feet, making her way over to you. “So you still love him, just as I said earlier which you completely denied.”

You gave her a look. “Ana, if you heard everything then you know—”

“I do.” Her eyes studied your face, most likely seeing the puffiness underneath your bloodshot eyes from crying so much. She reached out a hand and cupped your cheek, tenderly stroking it with her thumb. “I’ll give Castiel one thing, human love is beyond puzzling. I certainly didn’t need a magic 8 ball to know how that little convo was going to go. Despite how much Dean Winchester has hurt you, I was pretty sure for a moment there you were going to get another room and I was going to have to listen to the sounds of two primates mating in the wild.”

You yanked your face away and glared at her. “Stop it, Ana.” You made your way to the bed, roughly unzipping your bag and tossing everything of yours inside. “Dean said we should get out of Kansas as soon as possible. He doesn’t know when the next part of Billie’s plan is kicking off or when Amara is going to show up with Chuck, so it might not be safe to spend the night. We should keep moving.” You felt her hand on your shoulder and you let out an irritated sigh before turning to scowl at her. “What?”

She stared at you for a moment before leaning down to brush her lips over yours. You froze, unsure of what to do. Ana had never done something like this before and even stranger, you could feel yourself responding to it. Just like you had with Dean, though it was different, softer, and lit up a separate part of you inside. You felt yourself attempting to deepen the kiss but she pulled away, leaving you feeling dazed, yearning, guilty, and frustrated — a confusing swirl of emotions.

She smirked down at you, pleased with your reaction and trailed a gentle finger over your lips. “We should be fine here for the night. We can leave in the morning when you’ve gotten some sleep so you can drive. I’ll keep watch.” She turned and walked away, still smirking, and left you watching after her in complete shock.

You shook it off the best you could and went about getting the things you would need for the night out of your bag. Ana was kissing you now? That was new. Could today get any more complicated?

You were submerged in darkness, nothing but pure black everywhere you looked. The last thing you knew you were screaming out in agony, feeling infinite pain, mentally begging for death. Then, nothing. You were just floating along in…nothing.

“Come to me.”

You heard the sweetest voice you had ever heard, calling out to you, and you wanted to go to it but you weren’t sure how. When you attempted to move, you couldn’t. You were frozen in a sea of nothing.

“Y/N,” the voice called. “Come to me now.” As soothing as that voice had been, you could hear the clear command at the end. You wanted to go but how?

Suddenly, a shaft of bright blue-white light appeared right in front of you. “Let’s go,” the voice called, sounding much closer and it vibrated off of the blackness surrounding you. The light reached out to you and you somehow reached back. You liked the light, trusted it, and it felt warm when it touched you. Warmth that reminded you of your grandmother’s homemade apple pie fresh out of the oven, Dean and Sam snuggled up against you in the motel rooms you’d stayed in often as children, your mother’s smile as you and your siblings played on the swingset in the backyard, the blanket your father wrapped around you when you were home sick from school, the feeling of Dean’s hand in yours — pure warmth. You felt completely safe and whole, as if nothing bad or painful could get at you here, not while the light was touching you.

“There.” The light pulled you further into it and it was so blindingly beautiful that you felt the urge to cry at the same time that you wanted to smile. “Come to me.” At this final command, you pushed into the light at the same time it pulled you forward and everything went white.

The next second, you were back in your body, staring up at a familiar red-headed woman though her eyes were glowing the same color light you had been moving towards a mere moment ago. Two little dots of the blue-white light focused on you as the angel’s hands rested on your chest, a golden glow emanating from them.

You blinked and coughed and the lights faded from her eyes as did the glow from her hands. Now very worried looking brown eyes were gazing down at you. “Took you long enough,” she muttered. “How do you feel?”

You coughed again and tried to sit up with her helping you. You suddenly took notice of a familiar face, a face that haunted your dreams every single night, sneering at you, her hands bound by an invisible force, hanging from something unseen. Her lips also appeared to be sealed by that same force. “What…happened?” You rasped out.

“There’s no easy way to say this. You died.”

You turned wide eyes on her. “What? H-How?”

Ana glared over at the witch. “Her.”

You met the witch with your own glare and it all came back to you in a flash: the pain, the torture, the screaming, your family. At that last thought, you slowly got to your feet, Ana helping to steady you. “What’s holding her?”

She smirked over at the old hag. “Me.”

Something occurred to you just then. “Why did you bring me back? You had my soul. You could’ve just walked away with it. No one would’ve been the wiser. So why bring me back?” You were very well aware of how this angel operated. You had been brought to the forefront of her business after all, bleeding and torn up on death’s door. Granted, she hadn’t charged you for saving your life but you weren’t ignorant to the donations she usually collected for her services.

Her jaw tightened and you could tell she was thinking it over before she turned to answer you. “I’m nothing if not an excellent businesswoman. A deal’s a deal. The witch was alive and you weren’t. That wasn’t the terms of our agreement so I brought you back. I can’t have word getting around that I don’t hold up my end of the deal. It’s not good for business.”

You weren’t quite sure you believed her. Not only because she was an angel (and an angel that charged people money to heal them) but because somehow you just knew that hadn’t been the reason she’d done it. But that was a problem for later. Now, your focus was on the witch. “So, are you going to let her go so I can finally finish her off?”

“Hmm, I don’t really think that’s a good idea, do you? Last time you went toe to toe with her, you died.”

“You weren’t here then as my backup generator. Now, you are.”

“Oh, really, Rocky? That’s what you think I am? A defibrillator? Maybe I should let her go and let you die again. And this time, I won’t bring you back. You would make a nice addition to my collection of beautiful things stored in my Louis Vuitton. You know, they say diamonds are forever but it’s really all about souls this year.”

You both heard the witch trying to yell something but unable due to her invisible gag. “Okay, seriously, we can argue later. Let her go, Ana, I’ve got this.” You picked up the blade that had been thrust out of your hand before the pain and screaming started, and tensed in preparation.

The angel turned to you with brows drawn together. “Ana?”

“Jo then. Now, come on, let’s do this.” You were more than ready to take this bitch down.

“No. I like the sound of Ana. It’s better.”

You glanced at her in disbelief. “Seriously?”

“Oh. Right.” She went to wave her hand in the witch’s direction when she stopped. “Actually, may I make a suggestion for this little revenge fantasy of yours?”

You shot her a look.

“I think you’ll like it.” She gave you a wicked smirk and then leaned in to whisper in your ear. A smirk started to appear on your own face the more she talked. She had been right. You liked her suggestion. It was going to take you hours to finish the witch and since you had just been brought back to life, fully healed, you had more than enough energy to pull it off.

Bright flashes happened and you could hear the witch’s muffled screams as you carved into her and Ana then healed her. More bright flashes and you could see Ana’s devious smirk as she began to neutralize her angel-style but stopped right before it took. Another bright flash and you glared into the witch’s eyes as you stabbed her, gritting out, “That was for my sister.” As you’d anticipated after agreeing to Ana’s suggestion, it took both of you hours to torture and kill the witch. Ana had liquified her insides multiple times throughout before bringing her back from the brink. Rick and Layla had left long ago, satisfied that they had gotten payback for Carrie with the werewolves they took out and not wanting to be a part of what you and Ana were doing to the witch. Another bright flash and the witch’s lips unsealed with a scream that sounded an awful lot like your sister’s that then turned into booming thunder.

You woke with a gasp and grabbed your gun that always had a few rounds of witch-killing bullets loaded, sitting straight up and glancing around the dark room, aiming for anything that might move. Your eyes came to a stop on Ana, sitting in the same chair as before, her eyes glowing that familiar bluish-white light. You lowered your gun in relief. To anyone else, this very picture might scare them but to you it was soothing and made you feel safe; it reminded you of when she’d brought you back and how it felt before you were back in your body completely.

The glowing light suddenly disappeared and the dark reigned once more. “It’s okay,” she reassured. “It’s just a thunderstorm.” Almost as if to solidify her explanation, a loud clap of thunder sounded overhead. “No one’s here but me.”

You nodded and when the room lit up with a lightning flash, you could see she was right. You placed your gun back underneath your pillow and hugged your knees to your chest. “I had that dream again.”

Ana stopped counting her money and glanced up at you. You always marveled at her ability to see in complete darkness, to the point that she could do things like that without any light whatsoever. “The witch one?”

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“From when you were younger or from when she killed you?”

“When I died. I think telling Dean maybe got me thinking about it again so that’s why…” You gestured towards your head. “I was remembering the pain and the screaming…”

You heard the chair lightly scrape across the floor and in the next flash of lightning, you saw her coming over to you. She gently sat on the bed next to you and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close until your head was on her shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t get there fast enough.”

You shook your head. “Don’t apologize. You saved me and then helped me finish her.”

“True.” She ran a tender hand over your hair. “But I wish you didn’t have those memories.” After a moment, she added, “I could take them away if you wanted.” She’d made you this offer before but you had refused it then and you were going to refuse it now.

“No, thanks though. I need those memories to keep me sharp, help keep me alive.”

“I thought that’s what you had me for,” she teased.

You smiled. “My defibrillator?”

Ana scoffed. “I still can’t believe you called me that.”

“You called yourself that. I said you were my backup generator.”

“Same thing.”

You lifted your head and shot her a look. “Hardly.”

She smiled and you couldn’t help but study her. Remembering the kiss earlier, you knew she cared for you more than the average human (any other human really) but you never thought in a million years that she could possibly have feelings…like that. She was an angel and you were only human after all. Didn’t Cas say once that his true form was the size of a Chrysler building and that humans were mere ants to angels? How did the Chrysler building feel anything for an ant?

You remembered seeing Ana’s face for the first time through a haze of pain. She had stared down at you as she started to heal you, her lips parted in shock before they pressed together in determination. You thought back to her insistence that you take her up on her offer of a soul deal to get what you wanted, assuring you that demon deals were a nasty, messy business that you definitely had to read the fine print on before you signed. And the one thing you hadn’t told Dean is that when Ana brought you back after the witch killed you, her mark was no longer on your soul. When you died, your soul had gone to her as per the deal you’d made, but once you were back inside your body, breathing again, your soul was your own. So her whole line of wanting to make sure you both got what you wanted out of the deal had been complete bullshit. Something you didn’t find out until later on, when she reamed you out for almost dying again on another hunt: a dark entity in an abandoned asylum outside of Chicago. By that time, you trusted Ana enough to make another deal with her. If something happened to you, you trusted that she would keep your soul safe until she revived you or otherwise. What that otherwise was you couldn’t be sure, but you trusted her implicitly to look out for you. Something she had been doing ever since you crossed each other’s paths.

Things suddenly became so clear to you, almost as if you had been trying to see out of a foggy window but no matter how much you rubbed at it or turned the defroster on, it never cleared…until now.

Her smile faded slightly when you leaned in and gently brushed your lips against hers, pulling back to see what she would do. Another lightning flash lit up the room and you could see her glancing back and forth between you and your mouth, leaning in slowly. You met her halfway and a light fluttery feeling bloomed in your chest when you connected and this time it was more than just a brush of lips. You turned your body slightly towards her and cupped her cheek, taking control of the kiss. It surprised you a little but it felt like you were kissing someone who was inexperienced. You couldn’t tell if it had to do with you being a woman or a human, and she was holding back either way, or if she had never truly done this before. Regardless, you looked forward to finding out.

She began to mimic your movements and the kiss grew more passionate. You realized that you wanted more of the kiss, more of her. You reached up and began to slowly unbutton her Mulberry silk blouse (as she’d told you so many times before when warning you not to get it dirty if you opened something near her) but her hand covered yours, stopping you.

You broke away from her, your brows drawn together. “What?”

She trailed fingertips from your cheek down to your lips, intently studying you.

“Ana?”

Her eyes met yours. “You need sleep so you can drive in the morning. I said we would be okay staying here tonight, but once morning hits, we need to leave.” You went to protest when she shook her head. “Once we’re far enough away, we’ll have plenty of time for this. But for now, sleep.”

You wanted to argue that Chuck could soon end all life as you knew it so there was no time like the present but this was also new to you. You’d never been with a woman before, never mind an angel. What were the rules? How did it go? Being with Dean, you’d seen some porn in your time so you vaguely had an idea how it went with women, but nothing concrete. You’d only ever been with Dean and a few other guys after all. But an angel inside a female human vessel…and a female human…put point blank, how the hell did that work?

So, you didn’t push and instead, nodded your agreement. Ana got off the bed and you laid back down, settling the sheets over you once more. She took a seat next to you, sitting against the headboard, and began to gently brush your hair back with her hand. You had always wondered why she always seemed to be touching you or caressing you when you two were alone (and she wasn’t miffed at you); now you knew why. It wasn’t long before your eyes started to close and you began to drift off, hoping you wouldn’t go straight back into a nightmare. Thankfully, the thunder seemed to be moving away from your location.

Almost as if she heard your thoughts, Ana murmured, “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe.”

You nearly smiled at her words. You never told her this because not only would she have gotten offended but she would’ve denied it to the ground, but most times, you almost felt like you had a guardian angel watching over you. A guardian angel that dressed better than most humans and would kill for a top of the line Hermes handbag (and you meant that literally). Who gave you dirty looks and a hard time most days, but a guardian nonetheless. Now, you weren’t quite sure what she would be to you. You were now glad she had stopped you before. You both had some things to figure out and a discussion should be had whenever you got to where you were going next, but regardless, one thing was for sure: you knew she would keep you safe.

A/N: I know Cas had to stick his hand inside a human's chest to be able to read the marks of an angel on the bones of that human, but I decided to adjust it for fic purposes. I initially was going to do something similar to the handprint but I liked this idea better. Please let me know what you think!

16 notes · View notes

thebiggerbear · 5 months

Text

Writing Updates - Dec 2023

Here's what I've got currently going on amidst the holiday craziness (meaning, yes I'm working on ALL of these):

Beau Arlen x Female Reader:

The Ghosts Are Coming For You Chapter 2

Only Ever Holding Onto You Chapter 4

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #1)

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #2)

Unnamed (TBD) AU short story

Unnamed (TBD) AU one shot

Unnamed (TBD) AU Prompt Response (which is looking like it may turn into either a one shot or short story depending on how long this continues to get)

Unnamed (TBD) s3 AU short story

Soldier Boy x Female Reader:

Keep Me Inside Chapter 1

Unnamed (TBD) post-3x05/AU one shot that I previewed in November here

Unnamed (TBD) post-3x04/AU one shot

Unnamed (TBD) post-3x08/AU story that I previewed in November here

Unnamed (TBD) s3 AU one shot

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #1)

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #2)

Dean Winchester x Female Reader:

Follow Me Into the Dark s15/AU short story Part 1

Unnamed (TBD) s15/AU Prompt Response

Unnamed (TBD) s15/AU one shot (that may turn into a short story)

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #1)

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #2)

Unnamed (TBD) s10 one shot

Sam Winchester x Female Reader:

Unnamed (TBD) s14 ficlet (may turn into one shot)

Alec McDowell x Female Reader:

Unnamed (TBD) short story

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #2)

Tom Hanniger x Female Reader:

Unnamed (TBD) post-movie short story

Unnamed (TBD) post-movie story

Jenny Hoyt x Female Reader:

Unnamed (TBD) story that I previewed in November here

Unnamed (TBD) 3x11 AU one shot

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #2)

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response

Anael/Sister Jo x Female Reader:

Unnamed (TBD) one shot

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #1)

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #2)

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response

Rachel Gatina x Female Reader:

Unnamed (TBD) short story

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #2)

SDV Leah x Female Reader:

Unnamed (TBD) Prompt Response (multi-character response #2)

Multiple Pairings:

Beau Arlen x Female Reader x Jenny Hoyt:

Unnamed (TBD) story

Beau Arlen x Female Reader x Jenny Hoyt x Cassie Dewell:

You Know What You're Here For (still determining if this will be a short story or full story but one thing it will be is absolutely filthy - I'm not much of a smut writer but I used this to practice with so yeah, absolutely filthy, I feel like I don't know if I need a shower or Confession or a cigarette, preferably one of the former two)

Breakdown of the Multi-Character x Reader Prompt Response Project:

Prompt 1:

Soldier Boy - Complete

Beau Arlen - Complete

Dean Winchester - in progress

Jenny Hoyt - in progress

Tom Hanniger - in progress

Jason Teague - Complete

Anael - in progress

SDV Alex - in progress

Prompt 2:

Soldier Boy - Complete

Beau Arlen - Complete

Dean Winchester - Complete

Jenny Hoyt - Complete

Tom Hanniger - in progress

Jason Teague - Complete

Alec McDowell - Complete

CJ Braxton - in progress

Anael - in progress

Rachel Gatina - in progress

SDV Leah - in progress

I haven't posted the completed ones yet because I want to post them altogether so they can all be linked together since they're responses to the same prompt.

As far as ships go here's what I've got in the works:

Beau x Cassie:

Their Silent Thunder Matches Mine Chapter 3

What Happened Last Night Prompt Response

No Warning Prompt Response

Traditions Prompt Response

Santa Beau Prompt Response

Unnamed (TBD) post-3x13 one shot

Unnamed (TBD) Halloween/AU one shot

Unnamed (TBD) one shot

Cassenny (Cassie x Jenny):

Unnamed (TBD) pre-series/s1 AU one shot

Dean x Cassie Dewell:

Unnamed (TBD) s15/post-s3/AU one shot

Unnamed (TBD) later season/post-s3/AU one shot (previewed here)

Destiel (Dean x Castiel):

Unnamed (TBD) later-season ficlet

Unnamed (TBD) post-15x19 ficlet

Unnamed (TBD) post 13x01 ficlet

Unnamed (TBD) AU/post-finale ficlet

Buddie (Buck x Eddie):

One Last Time s4/AU one shot (it's been in the works for the last two years at least but I'm getting that much closer to where I want it and can finally post it; we're on final approach, folks)

Unnamed (TBD) post-4x05 one shot (that may turn into a short story)

Unnamed (TBD) post-3x18 one shot

Jonsa (Jon x Sansa):

Unnamed (TBD) AU story

Unnamed (TBD) post-s6 one shot (that may turn into a short story)

Unnamed (TBD) post-s6/pre-s7 AU one shot

Unnamed (TBD) one shot

Unnamed (TBD) AU one shot

Unnamed (TBD) post-finale one shot

Unnamed (TBD) post-finale short story

Daensa (Daenerys x Sansa):

Unnamed (TBD) modern/AU short story

Unnamed (TBD) s7 AU short story that I previewed in November here (that may turn into a story)

Unnamed (TBD) mid-finale one shot

Unnamed (TBD) s8 ficlet

Unnamed (TBD) AU Prompt Response

Bella x Jacob:

Take What You Need (possibly mid or) post-NM/AU one shot (I haven't decided which time frame fits the events better)

Unnamed (TBD) post-BD imagine

Unnamed (TBD) Thanksgiving/post-BD one shot

Other Things:

Game of Thrones story (post-finale) - contains OC's along with canon characters

The Walking Dead story (post-TWDDC season 1) - contains OC's along with canon characters

Dean Winchester x Female!OC story (post-finale)

Alec McDowell x Female!OC story (post-finale)

I'm currently outlining projects for the following:

Edythe Cullen x Bella Swan

Edythe Cullen x Jacob Black (one shot)

Rosalie Hale x Female Reader

Carlisle Cullen x Female Reader

Sebastian Sallow x Female Reader

Rip Wheeler x Female Reader

Dean Winchester x Jo Harvelle (one shot)

Maribel Garlick x Female Reader (one shot)

Sam Uley x Female Reader

Leah Clearwater x Renesmee Cullen?

Sam Uley x Renesmee Cullen (one shot)

Max Goodwin x Elizabeth Wilder (one shot)

Jenny Hoyt x Dean Winchester (one shot)

Jenny Hoyt x Soldier Boy

Clarke Griffin x Lexa (prompt response to a Clexmas '23 prompt that I won't make in time to post the response to but I'm still writing it!)

Dean Winchester x Buffy Summers (one shot)

Buffy Summers x Faith Lehane

#monthly writing updates

10 notes · View notes

thebiggerbear · 4 months

Text

Jenny Hoyt x Reader - Prompt Response - "Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Summary: When Jenny is attacked, you couldn't get to the hospital fast enough. You do what you can to reassure her that her mother will be found while you sit with her, waiting for the doctor.

Pairing: Jenny Hoyt x Female!Reader; Jenny Hoyt x Female!DeputySheriff Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. 3x11 is one of my favorite episodes of the season for so many reasons, but I loved Jenny's arc with her mom ending the way it did. Katheryn did a phenomenal job and it was nice to get back to Jenny & Jenny and Cassie for such an important moment in Jenny's emotional journey.

This is meant to take place after the attack in 3x11, the night Gigi was taken.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: mentions of physical attack; mentions of injuries; mentions of kidnapping; implied sex

Word Count: 4090

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

<-->

You rushed to the local hospital, sirens blaring and flashing lights on top of your car. You had received a call minutes earlier informing you that one of your fellow deputies had been attacked and was currently being transported to the ER. As soon as you heard the name, your feet were moving long before you made the decision to move. You sped to your car and quickly threw it into gear, ignoring the calls of one of the other deputies as you hightailed it away from the crime scene you’d been working. You never walked off the job, leaving the processing of a crime scene unfinished, but you knew Reyes had it handled. And you knew Beau would understand and most likely back you up on this one.

You practically screeched to a halt in the parking lot and ran inside the ER entrance. You quickly asked a nurse at the desk where Jenny Hoyt was, flashing your badge for her to see, and she pointed down the hall, rattling off a room number before turning back to the person she had been helping when you’d interrupted. You hurried in the direction she’d pointed and you came to a stop when you saw Poppernak exiting the room. You both locked eyes and his widened before briefly glancing back and then he approached you with a placating hand.

“She’s alright, Y/N. She’s got a concussion and some bumps and bruises, but the doc says she’s going to be okay,” he reassured you.

You let out a heavy breath of relief and some of the tension began to melt away from your body. “What the hell happened, Pops? When I heard she’d been attacked…”

Pop nodded. “She was at home.” At the sudden widening of your eyes, he quickly explained, “Some guys broke in and took her mom.”

Your brows furrowed. “Gigi? But she was in the wind. I don’t—”

He shrugged. “Apparently, she came back to ask for help. She was roughed up by these guys, on the run, but before Jenny could do anything, they showed up.”

You badly wanted to get inside and see the patient but you also knew you needed to rein yourself in first. It seemed Jenny had enough on her plate considering; she didn’t need you being emotional on top of it. You placed your hands on your hips and focused on your breathing. You weren’t out of breath by any means but you needed to affect a sense of calm throughout your body and slow down your mind. Jenny was okay; that was all that mattered.

Pops could see you doing just that and mercifully gave you a minute to pull yourself together.

When you felt mellowed enough to continue, your brain started piecing together facts of the case. “Is Beau here?”

He shook his head. “He was home when it happened. He’s got his daughter tonight. Don’t worry, he has the rest of the department working on it and he already spoke to her.”

“Right, right.” You tiredly rubbed at your eyes. “I forgot that he has Emily and Carla over. Alright, so while he’s there, who’s running point then?”

“I am for now and Cassie’s helping us on this one.” He gestured back towards the door.

You nodded. That was good. You trusted Pops implicitly and Cassie would be a great help.

“But uh,” the deputy stepped closer to you and lowered his voice as a nurse passed by you. “Jenny’s being pretty insistent that she wants to work it.” Your gaze snapped over to him in disbelief. “Right now,” he added, giving you a look.

“Oh hell no,” you scoffed and pushed past him, gripping the knob, and swinging the door open. No way in hell was Jenny leaving the hospital until she was discharged, and then she was going straight home or to your place or a hotel — you didn’t care where. But she was definitely not going to work, not in her condition.

Your eyes landed on the blonde undersheriff sitting on the bed, wearing a very annoyed yet bored expression on her face until she saw you. You could see her blue eyes glistening as she attempted to give you a small reassuring smile, looking genuinely relieved to see you. Cassie mirrored that relief and quickly got up from her chair, grabbing her coat. The fiery determination you’d felt a moment ago went completely out of you at the sight of Jenny.

You made your way over and once you were in front of her, you laid a hand against her cheek, studying her. You noticed she leaned slightly into your touch and briefly closed her eyes. As she did, your own honed in on the bandaging on her left temple. “What the hell happened, Jenny?” You whispered.

She smiled up at you. “I’m okay,” she reassured, taking your hand and gently removing it from her face. “This is minor.” She waved a hand towards her injuries.

“Minor in that it could have been much worse,” Cassie interjected as she appeared next to you. “But not minor enough that you don’t need to immediately go and rest once you get out of here.”

As expected, that was the last thing Jenny wanted to hear. “I’m fine, Cassie. You know I have to find her.”

“Your mom?” You interrupted.

“Yeah,” she admitted quietly. “She showed back up.” You could see a slight sadness in her blue gaze and that burned you. While the older woman didn’t deserve to be kidnapped, you truly hated the effect she had on her daughter sometimes. Just how vulnerable and upset she left her each time, how she always left her holding the bag in some way — well, now, the empty bag.

“We’re going to find her,” Cassie promised. “Just stay here until the doctor releases you and then let Y/N take you home.”

Jenny tensed up and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Cassie wince, most likely realizing her mistake.

“I meant, let her take you wherever you need to go,” she quickly amended. “You can go to my place if you want. You know I’ve got the spare room.” She laid a hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “We’ve got this. As soon as I hear anything, you’re my first call.”

The blonde solemnly nodded and gave Cassie a hint of a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Cassie turned to you and gave you a nod, which you returned, before she made her way outside to meet Poppernak.

You took a seat next to Jenny on the bed once the door was closed. “So did the doctor say when they’re going to release you?”

Jenny shrugged. “Soon. But that was about thirty minutes ago. I was getting ready to bust out of this joint before you showed up.”

“Sorry to foil your grand escape plan,” you teased, staring at her in a little bit of awe. Even with everything she’d gone through tonight; even injured and worried about her mom; even sporting medical dressings and smudged mascara around her eyes, she still was the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen.

She graced you with a knowing grin. “No, you’re not.”

You gave her a wide smile. “No, I’m not.”

“So, about how many traffic laws would you say you broke getting here?”

“Not nearly enough,” you muttered.

She huffed out a laugh and carefully laid her head on your shoulder. You snuck your arm around her and tenderly kissed her forehead. You hadn’t been together long and the both of you were still figuring this out but she had scared the hell out of you today. You were pretty sure a few years were taken off your lifespan.

“Did you call Justin?”

Jenny gently shook her head. “I don’t want to worry him. Besides, I’m fine.”

“Okay,” you whispered, rubbing her shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

That made you smile. Had this happened a few months back, you highly doubted that would be the case. How times had changed.

When you’d first arrived for a visit on Beau’s invitation, Jenny Hoyt had not cared for you. You could see that plain as day underneath her forced smile when Beau began to regale her and Cassie with stories about the two of you working together back in the day. At the time, you chalked it up to her seeing you as a possible professional intruder (Beau had told you privately that she hadn’t been the friendliest when he first came on board because she had been in charge up to that moment) or as a personal rival (you noticed her eyes strayed to Beau and often) or both. Which was a shame because from the moment you saw her, all you wanted was to get to know her. You’d seen beautiful women before but they all paled in comparison to her. And when she smiled (even if it wasn’t at you), your heart stopped inside your chest.

You would never admit it to anyone but she may have been part of the reason you agreed to transfer up here from Houston when Beau asked. Though the sheriff gave you a knowing smirk when one night during a round of drinks at The Boot Heel, you’d said the reason you switched departments was for the scenic views and to make sure a certain Texan friend of yours didn’t freeze his ass off. Jenny had grinned in Beau’s direction while the others laughed but his focus was purely on you. Yeah, Beau saw right through you; you’d been partners once upon a time after all. He knew you like the back of his hand by now.

Over time and several movie nights later, Jenny’s iciness towards you began to thaw. You saving her life may have had something to do with that. A perp was about to shoot her when you tackled her to the ground before quickly rolling back over and putting a bullet in his leg and another in his shoulder, making him yell out in pain and drop. A few nights later, she’d asked you to meet her for drinks at the bar and though you were nervous as hell to be out alone with your crush like a damn teenager, you did. From there, you both got to know each other and a friendship was starting to form that was also smoothing things out on the work front. You’d discreetly stuck your tongue out at Beau when he’d given you a cocky smile after assigning you both as temporary partners while Pops was on vacation.

But then one night, in Beau’s trailer during a movie night in fact, she’d nervously reached out to insert her fingers into a loop on your jeans and pulled you in to kiss you. One minute, you’d both been laughing about a scene in the movie that you hated so you’d decided to get up and get everyone more beer at the same time, and the next you felt her tongue gliding along your bottom lip, asking for entrance. Which you gladly gave once you got over your shock. Needless to say, it had been a little bit before either of you emerged from the trailer, with beers in hand, hoping like hell that every hair was in place and nothing was untucked to give away what you two had been doing.

Sure enough, though, Beau shot you a surreptitious glance when you handed him his beer and took your seat next to him. After a moment, he leaned in, whispering to you, “You better not have been on the couch. Em sleeps on that pullout.” You glared at him, swatting his chest and making him laugh before he sat back and took a sip of his beer.

After that impromptu makeout session, when she called you the next day to ask if you could come over to her place to talk, you’d been worried she would tell you it had been a mistake, that she had been drinking and not really thinking, that you two worked together and it wasn’t a good idea — all of it. But it turned out you had nothing to worry about. Once she’d opened the door, you’d barely made it inside before she was all over you.

Later, you both had laid in her bed, catching your breath, and you glanced around. You’d been to her house a few times but you’d never been in here before. “Huh, so this is the bedroom. Nice,” you panted.

She laughed, making you smile, and she turned on her side to face you, prompting you to do the same. You watched as she shyly buried her teeth into her bottom lip, still smiling. She really had no idea what she did to you when she did that. “I haven’t really done anything like this since college,” she admitted.

“Sex?” You blurted out, your eyes almost popping out of your head.

“No,” she chuckled. “Being intimate…with a woman.”

“Oh,” you gave a mock sigh of relief, smirking over at her. “I did kind of get the impression that this wasn’t your first rodeo.”

She grinned as she lightly trailed her fingers over your arm. “Definitely not.” Her blue eyes stared into yours and you swore you could feel her pulling you in just like she had the night before but this time, you wouldn’t resurface, for air, for food, for anything, and you were more than okay with that. She had you from the moment she kissed you — hell, from the first moment her gaze met yours. “I like you,” she murmured.

You pointedly glanced down at your bodies, a sheet covering her bare chest and you still clad in a bra, and huffed out a laugh. “I certainly hope so.”

She let out a giggle, something you learned you loved the sound of last night, and pulled at you until you were above her once more, her arms wrapped around your neck. “No, I mean, I really like you.”

“Really really?” You teased.

“Yes,” she laughed.

“Good,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss her. “Because I really really like you, too.” She giggled against your lips and you couldn’t help but smile.

Since then, you’d kept things quiet as much as you possibly could while you both navigated this thing between you. You two weren’t exactly official yet and Jenny certainly hadn’t told her son about you. Beau, Cassie, and Denise weren’t supposed to be in the know but Beau knew you too well, Cassie was a damned good PI as well as Jenny’s best friend, and Denise may have caught you two making out in the storage room at Dewell and Hoyt. Not to mention, you were pretty sure Denise mentioned it to the other two which just confirmed their suspicions. Even Poppernak was shooting you two knowing glances whenever you tried to act as if you hadn’t been exchanging flirty smiles or discreetly running a finger along the other’s hand. So maybe you both hadn’t been as inconspicuous as you thought.

That was confirmed for you when Beau came into the office you shared with Jenny, who was out with Pops following up on a squatter found in a home, and sat on the edge of your desk, looking at a file folder in his hand, not saying a word. After a minute of listening to him flipping papers over, you decided you had enough. “Beau?” He glanced at you and you arched your brows at him expectantly.

He looked back down to his papers. “You were at Hoyt’s last night?”

Your eyes widened but you schooled your features by the time he swung his gaze up to meet yours. “What?” You laughed.

“Don’t play dumb. Not with me.”

You pressed your lips together, feeling like you were a school kid being questioned by the teacher about you seeing some other kid stick gum to her chair. “I’m not. I was there last night. I was just wondering how you knew that.” You shot him a look but he completely ignored you.

Instead, he arched a brow at you. “And?”

“And I was there hanging out, like Jenny and I have done a hundred times. There was a 90 Day Fiancee marathon and she invited me over to watch. I’ve never seen it so I went over.”

“You hate reality shows.”

“That’s not true. I like a few.”

He closed the file in his hand and leaned closer. “Name one.”

You quickly racked your brain for an answer. “I like…Laguna Beach. That was a good one.”

“One from this decade.”

Dammit. “Okay. Well, I will have you know that I watch…um…” Thankfully, a name popped into your head. “Lone Star Law! There you go.”

He shook his head. “That’s a documentary series, not a reality show.”

Crap, he was right. Why would you have said that? You knew better. Now, you had to think up something else. “Bar Rescue?”

He stared at you for a moment and you waited to see what his answer would be. He leaned back and opened the file, licking his lips and glancing back down at the papers. “Just keep it professional while you’re on the job.”

“I always do,” you defended.

“Tell that to Madge who found this door locked for a half hour with the blinds closed, after she saw you both come in here.”

Your jaw dropped and your cheeks heated. To be fair, that had been Jenny’s fault. You didn’t want to do anything while you were in a full station like you had been yesterday (when this happened), but Jenny insisted on putting your desk to good use and swiped everything off of it before hopping up onto it, smirking and crooking her finger at you in a come hither motion. What were you supposed to do, just ignore it?

“Look, this department is stretched thin as it is. We don’t need any other issues popping up. You know how this works, Y/N. If we were in Houston, you’d both be in different departments by now. Different shifts even.”

“I know,” you mumbled. He was right. If you were still in your old precinct, granted your captain would have insisted one of you transfer out. Law enforcement didn’t look too kindly on significant others working together in the same unit and with good reason.

His eyes snapped towards you and he laid a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Just keep it toned down while you’re at the office.” You nodded. “Promise?”

You squeezed his hand, thankful that Beau was being more understanding than your old boss would have been. “I promise.”

A warm smile spread across his face then. “Now that I’ve gotten the boss part over with. As a friend, I’m happy for you.”

You returned his smile. “Thanks.”

“Although, you’re gonna need to keep your bulletproof vest close. It is Hoyt after all.”

You shoved at his shoulder and he laughed. He wasn’t exactly off the mark, though, and you knew that. Jenny was a fiery one and she took no hostages when she was angry. You liked that, though, not to mention it made her even more attractive to you, even more beautiful. By this point, you’d already had a couple of arguments but the making up was even more passionate than you’d ever imagined it could be.

And while things between you could burn that bright, you also appreciated quiet moments like these where you just got to hold her, feeling her soft skin underneath your fingertips as you soothingly rubbed her arm, feeling her breathe next to you. Especially after a scare like today.

You glanced out of the window on the door and saw the signs of a typically busy ER. It was definitely going to be a while before Jenny was discharged.

“Hey,” you murmured. “Why don’t you lay down and get some rest while we wait?”

“I can’t sleep right now,” she whispered. “Not while my mom’s still out there.”

You nodded; you could more than understand that. “Just lay down then. Give your body some rest. Once we’re out of here, we can swing by the station and see what’s going on.”

She glanced up at you, eyes wide. “But Beau told me—”

“You let me deal with him. You just have to promise me one thing.”

She eagerly nodded.

“Once we get the update, we go to my place so you can get some rest and then, we’ll see how you feel in the morning. Go from there.”

“I told you, I can’t sleep. I—”

“Just rest then.” You tenderly tucked her hair behind her ear. “Jenny, you’ve been through a lot in the last few hours. I know you want to find your mom, I don’t blame you, I would, too. But you’ve got to be able to stay vertical for more than ten minutes before you rush out there to find her. You need to take care and be safe.” You covered her hand with yours, staring into her blue eyes. “I need you to be safe.”

She studied you for a moment, seeing you meant it. “Okay,” she agreed, beginning to move further back onto the bed. You got to your feet, clearing the way for her and intent on helping her. She stopped and glanced up at you. “Lay down with me?”

Your eyes flickered towards the door before shifting back to her. “Are you sure?”

She gave you a soft smile and nodded. You waited for her to settle and you gingerly climbed in next to her. The minute your head hit the pillow, she turned and snuggled up to you, prompting you to wrap your arm around her.

Jenny let out a heavy sigh and fidgeted with the top button of your shirt. “We’re going to find her, right?”

“Yeah,” you murmured to her forehead, brushing your lips against her skin. “We are.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

You weren't quite sure what she was thanking you for so you just pressed a kiss to her forehead in response before hugging her closer. You repeatedly ran your fingers through her hair in gentle strokes, listening to the muted sounds of the beeps of machines, people talking, and phones ringing. You had no idea Jenny had fallen asleep until you realized her breathing had evened out and the tiniest snore buzzed in your ear.

Truthfully, you were relieved. She may only have a concussion but knowing that she was going to be on the go once you got out of here, never really stopping to rest or take care of herself until her mother was found, you were glad that she was getting some rest now.

You smiled, hearing another tiny snore, and tenderly kissed her hairline. Jenny always insisted that she never snored and you let her continue living in that denial while you knew otherwise. You very gently laid your head against hers and closed your eyes. If you tried hard enough, you could block out the hospital sounds and pretend you were back at her place, going to sleep after a long day, no concussion having happened — just a simple day and even simpler routine that you two shared frequently during the week.

But with that thought came others. An image of Jenny being hit by her flying front door and being thrown back, her head bleeding, had you holding her to you a little tighter. You didn’t know who these jackholes were but once you got Jenny back to your apartment, you had every intention of working the case with Cassie and Poppernak to track the suspects down as well as locate her mom. You made a mental note to call Denise and ask her to sit with Jenny after the latter had fallen asleep in your bed, which you fully intended to get her to do.

“Sleep,” you whispered to her. “I’ll keep you safe.” You meant it, too. No one was attacking your girlfriend tonight, not while you were here. If anyone tried, they’d be all kinds of sorry.

The term caught you off guard for a moment. Girlfriend? You supposed you and Jenny were pretty much dating though you’d never put a label on it. You opened your eyes and glanced down at her sleeping face. The sight of her and the thought of the word, what it meant, had you smiling and settling back against her. Girlfriend… Yeah, you liked the sound of that.

#jenny hoyt x y/n #jenny hoyt x you #jenny hoyt x female reader #jenny hoyt x reader #jenny hoyt x female!deputysheriff!reader #jenny hoyt #big sky fanfiction #big sky #prompt response #jenny hoyt fanfiction #big sky fandom #katheryn winnick #katheryn winnick character #thebiggerbear #female!deputysheriff!reader

1 note · View note