Dean x Reader268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq6SIh1Vk6c
Warnings: mild language268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuiI7EkXhk2
Summary: Dean saves you from the leviathans268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8rBcvFA1gK
268Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmAJcnnBfLE
”Shhhh…” Dick pressed a long finger up to his mouth before he ran it lightly over your cheek. You were trembling still from head to toe, torn between wanting to turn away from his touch and pure terror at what would happen to you if you did. “Tsk tsk, Y/N. There’s no need to play coy,” he said. He smiled at you and you shuddered at the way it didn’t reach his eyes; they were dead and dark.
”What do you want from me?” You whimpered. You couldn’t control the way you were shaking and it sounded in your voice and your ragged breathing. Dick had suggested that you stand stock-straight in the middle of the room. His tone had been cordial, but something in his eyes made it very evident that it was not a suggestion. It had been an order. Never mind that he had just broken your leg… “Insurance,” he had said after he had snapped it… Insurance that you couldn’t run.
He paced around you in a circle. ”It’s a simple matter really. One of—“ he touched your hair where it was falling against your back, “information.” He walked around to face you again. “You want to help the company, don’t you? You want to be valuable?”
You gulped, gritting your teeth against the jagged, hot splinters of pain in your leg, and stared.
”Besides. This is now your whole life,” he continued, his arms outstretched. “I am your whole life.” He smiled that cruel smile again and you wished that you could shut your eyes against it, or turn away. “So be a good little soldier for your new family…”
You were starting to crumble into a panic. And Dick was looking at you like you had agreed to this whole-heartedly, signed your name on the dotted line of a contract willingly or sought out his offer with excitement. He looked at you like you should be honored to be standing in front of him and holding his attention. He rolled his shoulders back, cracking his neck, and adjusted his tie. The cruel smile was still sculpted onto his face. You began to tremble more and a sob forced itself from your lips. As tears began to pour out of your eyes you heard it.
Bang.
It was distant; a thunderous echoing sort of noise. But the direction it came from was unmistakable. Your breath caught in your throat and you dared to barely turn towards the locked door, ears perked and straining for more sound.
Dick suddenly gritted his teeth, although his smile didn’t falter. He turned towards one of his henchmen. “Winchesters,” he said through his teeth. He had made an attempt to layer on the quality of his continued forced charm but his annoyance and anger were plain. “Take care of it,” he said. The burly man left with two others through the only door in the room, back behind you. Dick turned back to face you. “Now, where were we? Ahh. Yes. And we’re running out of time…”
Meanwhile…
Sam and Dean were blazing through the building as quickly as they could. They were each wheeling a cart with a plastic jug of liquid on it, clutching the attached spray nozzle. They were dousing every person they came across, most of whom turned out to not be people at all…
”Dean! On your right!” Sam yelled over the shoulder of a large man he was spraying with the Borax. It steamed and hissed and the man flailed wildly, stumbling towards Sam blindly.
Dean spun to his right and caught a woman in the face with a solid stream of spray. She balked as it made contact, burning her skin, flailing like a cornered wild animal. Dean looked on in disgust as he brought his knife down on her neck, silencing her and spraying dark, black liquid on the opposite wall as he withdrew.
They worked through the building systematically, knowing that they had to be getting close. As they reached a lull in the action Dean turned and smiled at Sam. There was black goo splattered on his face and he was bleeding from one eyebrow.
”What the hell are you smirking about?” Sam asked, wiping his brow with his arm and smearing inky liquid across his forehead.
”I’ve never worked so hard to blaze a trail that had Dick at the end of it,” Dean said gruffly, laughing at his own joke.
Sam stared at him, exasperated, and shook his head at his brother.
”Get it, Sammy?” Dean nudged him with his elbow. “Dick.”
”Yeah. I get it, Dean. It just wasn’t funny.”
”Ehh,” Dean said dismissively. “You just have no sense of humor. Come on,” and he led the way up to the final floor of the building.
They were met by three Leviathans, waiting for them when they exited the stairwell. Sam and Dean paused, seizing them up and looking at each other to make sure the other was ready.
”Any way we could skip this level? We’re really only interested in fighting the boss,” Dean quipped, spinning his knife in his hand and adjusting his hold on the spray nozzle with the other. The three goons just stared back menacingly. “Damn,” he said to Sam.
Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother and they both took action at the same moment. The first two henchmen crumbled under the spray of Borax and Sam decapitated them with two fluid movements while Dean engaged the final Leviathan. It didn’t take long to incapacitate him and render him temporarily useless with a stroke of his blade.
The boys stood still for a moment, panting and trying to catch their breath before they turned and headed towards the only door at the end of the long hallway.
Sam was surprised to find it unlocked when he tested the handle. He gave Dean a look, wondering what kind of situation they were about to walk into. Dean gave him a stiff nod and he pushed open the door.
Dick was standing with his back to them as they entered. He was at the outside wall, composed entirely of windows, looking out at the panoramic view. “The Winchesters,” he called out as they entered, not even turning to look. “I was wondering when you two would show up. Please, make yourselves at home.” Dick was still facing the window and it was only after Sam and Dean came fully into the room that they noticed you clutched in front of him. He finally turned, dragging you around on your broken leg, causing you to cry out. Dick arranged his features into that same sculpted smile and stared at them unblinkingly. “I suppose you’re here to dismantle my operation,” he said boisterously as if he didn’t have a single care in the world.
You stared desperately at the two men who had entered. You were gripping onto Dick’s arm, which was around your neck and shoulders, in an attempt to support yourself. He was pressing you into him like a human shield. Tears of pain leaked from the corners of your eyes as you were forced to put some weight on your broken leg.
Dean made a move closer but Dick tightened his arm against your throat and you heaved a gasp as your windpipe was pressed shut. Dean immediately froze and then took a step back. Dick loosened his grip. “Now, see how that works?” he said casually. “If you get any closer she goes lights out,” he said, annunciating each consonant with relish. “And I mean I will crush her windpipe, not just send her for a nice, relaxing few minutes of shut-eye. She won’t wake up.”
Sam’s jaw clenched and his brow furrowed, darkening his face in a scowl.
Dick looked at the spray nozzles and knives clutched in both of their hands and the drips of dark liquid smearing their skin and clothes. He suddenly let out a laugh that echoed horribly in his cavernous office. “I see you’ve been cleaving your way through my workers. Of course, that’s not permanent. And I’m not sure what you expect to do with holy water, boys. We both know I’m not a demon. I’m much more than that. I’m one of the old ones; the first of the beasts.”
You were holding on as long as you could but the pain in your leg was now threatening to make you blackout. You began to tremble from head to toe again and a cry of agony escaped your lips again.
”Alright, Dick…” Dean began. “Just let her go and we can talk about your hostile take-over options.”
Dick laughed again in response. “You Winchesters–You always think everyone is going to bargain with you. But I’m the one holding all the cards here, so I think we’ll do things on my terms. Now put the knives down,” he said.
”Alright—alright,” Dean looked at Sam and nodded. Both of the men slowly bent and placed their knives down on the marble floor. The metal sang as it vibrated against the cold stone. They stood back up with their free hands now held out, palms open in a sign of surrender.
You gulped and tried to revive yourself but the pain in your leg was growing to be too much. You knew that Dick was speaking again and the taller man was answering, but you couldn’t make out the words anymore. Your vision began to constrict, the edges growing hazy and darkness creeping in.
”You won’t do anything to me, because you don’t want to injure her. Oh… and did I mention that I broke her leg? Snapped it. Just like a twig,” he smirked in a sick smile. “So it seems like we may stand here forever in a stalemate.”
Sam noticed that the girl’s skin begin to go from being as pale as alabaster to a sickly gray tinge. He adjusted his grip on the spray nozzle in his hand and caught Dean’s eye. There was a moment of instant understanding between the two brothers, and just as you began to cave into unconsciousness, you felt Dick release you.
Sam and Dean had both lunged, spraying Borax right in Dick Roman’s face. In his surprise and anguish, he relinquished his hold on you, and you would have crashed to the hard floor but you fell into Dean’s strong arms instead. Within a second of him catching you, your vision tunneled into complete blackness and you hung limply in his arms.
”Sam!” Dean yelled, scooping you up as gently as he could and praying that he wasn’t making your broken leg worse. “Let’s go!”
Sam picked up the plastic jug of Borax and tore the top off. He threw the remaining liquid all over Dick and chucked the empty jug at him for good measure. As he ran to follow Dean out of the room, he swiped up the knives, sparing one final glance back at Dick howling in fury and baring his teeth at them as they slammed the door shut.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Dean depressed the gas pedal as much as he dared and sped towards the hospital. “How’s she doin’, Sammy?” He glanced in the rearview mirror, squinting in the darkness at your crumpled form in the backseat.
Sam was sitting with you, partially supporting you so you wouldn’t slide off the seat and attempting to keep your leg from further injury. He shook his head in response. “I don’t know. I hate to say this but Dick was right. He snapped her leg. Clean break, completely through. I’m amazed she stayed conscious as long as she did,” Sam swallowed.
Dean muttered murderously under his breath and threw all caution to the wind, pressing the gas pedal to the floor.
_ _ _ _ _ _
You let out a noise that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan. There was a bright light shining through your eyelids like the sun was beating down on you, and it plucked you from the dark nothingness. You were pulled back to reality by intense pain in your leg.
You took a few stabilizing breaths and opened your eyes. Awareness crashed down on you, roaring like a flash flood. You were in the hospital. The bright light was the fluorescent glow from the bulbs in the ceiling. You took an exploratory glance around the room, expecting the two men who had saved you to be standing there waiting. Instead, you saw an unfamiliar man seated in a chair against one wall, staring at you with some of the bluest eyes you had ever seen.
When you made eye contact with him, he didn’t say anything. He simply stood and left the room, his trench coat swishing as he passed you.
You furrowed your brow, puzzled, and continued to evaluate your situation. You flipped off the blankets and cringed when you saw your right leg completely wrapped in dressings. You couldn’t remember anything past the last moment in Dick’s office. Your vision had gone black and in the last few seconds, before it felt like black dark water overwhelmed you, you had felt safe. Someone had caught you and held you close in strong arms. There had been a sense of relief and then you had been sucked under the black water of oblivion completely.
As you were lost in this train of thought, the man in the trench coat returned, now with the Winchesters in tow. You gulped and quickly threw the covers back over your leg, staring at them all like a deer in headlights. You surveyed them, brow knit, as the tallest one walked around to one side of your bed and the other came to stand next to the man in the trench coat.
You waited, assuming someone would break the silence. You had no idea where to begin. Shock still seemed to be your default setting at the moment.
”How is your leg?” asked the man in the trench coat. His voice was deep. There was some gravelly quality to it but the overall effect was smooth, like a stream tripping over pebbles in its way. Somehow you felt a little more relaxed after it washed over you.
You looked down towards your feet at the blankets you had hastily thrown over them. You couldn’t find your voice and only went back to looking around at the three strangers.
Now the tallest of them spoke gently from your other side. “I know this is a lot to take in and there’s no rush, okay? You can take as much time as you need. I’m Sam and that’s my brother, Dean, and that’s—well, that’s Castiel. We call him Cas,” he finished. You looked from one… to the next… and the next, finally settling your eyes on Sam. His eyes were soft and warm and his face was set in an expression of genuine interest and concern.
You weren’t sure where to begin. You had so many questions—the things you had seen… and they seemed to know about them all. It was all too much and you felt paralyzed, swallowing and feeling like there was grit stuck in your throat.
You looked over at Dean and Cas, studying each of their faces in turn. Cas’ face was the intent, studying you in return. You felt like you were both trying to unravel the other at the same time. Your eyes slid finally to Dean. As soon as they settled on his face you felt a tightness in your chest and somehow you knew…
”You caught me—carried me,” you said suddenly to Dean.
His eyebrows went from lowered in concern to raised at the suddenness with which you found your voice. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight a little, his hands not leaving the pockets of his green canvas jacket. “I did,” he said.
”Thank you,” you said. You turned back to Sam. “I—I don’t know what to say or… Thanks,” you choked out. And then your voice was lost again.
Sam turned up one corner of his mouth in a momentary sad smile. “Don’t mention it,” he said. He exchanged a significant look with Dean before meeting your eyes again.
”We need to talk,” he said seriously. You gulped and nodded. Dean went to the door and closed it gently before returning to your bedside.
There was a long moment of silence where the three looked at you. You began to flush under their gazes, suddenly realizing you were probably a total mess and that all of them were rather the type that had broad shoulders and strong jawlines…
Dean cleared his throat again uncomfortably. “Listen, Y/N—“
”How do you know my name?” This caught you off guard.
He tilted his head and looked even more awkward. “We…may have looked in your purse…”
You only stared back. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
”Anyway. We need to know,” he squinted his eyes at you, “what you know…”
You raised your eyebrows at him. “I know more than I ever need to,” you said simply.
Sam cut in now. “Ok… can you be more specific?” He was testing the waters. They wanted to find out if you knew about the Leviathans, how much you had seen, or if you just thought you had been the hostage of Richard Roman gone off the deep end.
A sudden surge of images, like high definition video, vivid in horrendous detail and color and shades of light, overtook your mind’s eye and you actually gripped at your head, squeezing your eyes shut tight. You could hear it all over again and anxiety bubbled in your chest. Your breathing became panicked and no matter what you did you couldn’t shut out the images and sounds because they were inside your head.
And then there were rough hands gently taking your wrists and pulling your hands away from your face and a low voice with a gruff edge was recalling you from the flashback. “Y/N. Y/N, it’s alright. Just breathe ok? It’s not real. You’re in the hospital. You’re safe.” Dean was leaning down to your eye level, holding your hands in his and squeezing them gently, talking you down. His gruff voice sounded vaguely desperate to pull you out of your panic attack. His hands were rough on yours and the feeling of them on your skin started to pull you back out of the terrifying memory. His eyes, all hues of green, were fixated on your face until you relaxed somewhat. Your breathing was still fast and anxious but it was deeper, and your eyes blinked open. Dean tore away from your wild eyes to meet Sam’s gaze. They shared another significant look. He straightened up and relinquished his hold on your hands, clenching and unclenching his a few times after he did so.
Cas was looking at you with sympathy. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly whispered. “This is all my fault,” he said, turning away from you.
You looked at him in vexation. “What? What is he talking about?”
Dean clenched his jaw and glanced over his shoulder at Cas as he took a seat back in the chair where he had kept his vigil. “It’s—It’s a long story for another time…” he trailed off.
”I would heal you if I could,” Cas suddenly mumbled.
You shot a look of shock up at Sam and then back at Dean. “What did he just say?”
Dean let out a gruff sigh and rubbed a hand across his face. “Now isn’t really the time to do this, Cas…”
But Cas continued anyway. “I am an angel. I would be able to heal your leg but I’m afraid I’m…somewhat weakened right now.”
You felt your mouth drop slightly open in disbelief. You looked towards the end of your bed and allowed your vision to grow hazy, your eyes unfocused. “An angel…” You squinted your eyes shut tight again from another pang of pain in your leg and from the realization of how quickly the world you had constructed for yourself over the entirety of your small, sheltered life was tumbling down. Only rubble was left now. “So—m-monsters?” The word had almost stuck in your throat. Dean gave you a stiff nod. “Angels and monsters,” you whispered to yourself.
Sam chewed on his bottom lip. “This is a lot. Maybe we should let you be for a while and—“
”Are you crazy? You’re just going to tell me that monsters and angels are real and leave me here to stew on that?” your voice was quiet, shaky, but forceful.
Dean couldn’t help but laugh a low, gruff chuckle. You turned and looked at him.
”Press the morphine button would you?” You cringed again as another shooting pain burned up your leg. “God,” you cringed, “I don’t remember them bandaging me up or getting here or anything…”
”You were sort of in and out of consciousness all night,” Sam said. His voice was laced with regret.
”What do you mean all night?”
”It’s…it’s the morning. We brought you here late last night. They rushed you in for an MRI and then surgery on your leg—“
”I had surgery?” you gaped, incredulous. You put a hand gently on the covers over your bandaged leg. That made more sense… the dressings instead of a plaster cast. “I don’t remember any of this.”
Sam nodded and Dean watched you with slightly narrowed eyes. He was impressed with how you were taking things but worried—he was worried about what you had been through. Your reaction to Sam’s gentle question implied you had seen far more than you ever should have had to.
”They had to put pins in your leg and…and reattached a torn ligament,” Sam said. You winced again.
”Dean, did you hit that painkiller button?” You shifted a little, trying to get more comfortable.
Dean perked up. He had experienced an unexpected lurch in his stomach when you said his name. “Uh no. Sorry. I got it now,” he said. He fumbled with the little button connected to your IV.
_ _ _ _ _ _
”He was asking me all these questions about the company and my old boss and—I didn’t know. I didn’t know what to tell him. And so—“ you stalled out again. Your voice cracked and broke. You pressed your lips shut, your throat tightening and that familiar feeling like that of a yawn starting. You clenched your teeth against the feeling, doing your best to try and stop it. But the tears stinging your eyes were from the thought of what you had lost. You shook your head, unable to continue, and pressed your hands to your head again, squeezing your eyes shut.
Sam put a gentle hand on one of your arms, trying to provide a comforting presence. He frowned at your distress.
Dean ground his teeth in anger as he watched you reeling from the horrible memories again. He clenched his fists, white-knuckles showing.
Cas was staring blankly at the opposite wall, listening intently but trying to keep himself from drowning in the overwhelming guilt he felt.
”You’re alright now. It’s over. You’re gonna be safe and we’ll make sure you get somewhere far away from here—stay with family somewhere else for a while, maybe,” Sam said quietly.
This produced a gasping sob from your lips and you pressed a hand over your mouth as emotion finally overwhelmed you. Your shoulders shook with your sobs and you were doing your best to stop, but your swirling thoughts kept returning to what you were trying to say, which was to articulate the cruel reality of what had transpired.
Dean and Sam looked on, helpless and alarmed, worry clouding over both their faces.
Cas suddenly stood and approached the bedside again. He looked at the Winchester brothers and they saw with unease that his eyes were glistening too, watery tears gleaming and making the blue deeper and more turbulent. “He killed her family,” he said.
You sniffled, trying as hard as you could to gain control over yourself again. “There’s no one else,” you choked out. “We’re all from a small town, lived within blocks of each other all our lives. He—everyone is gone,” you scratched out in a desperate whisper before covering your face in your hands again. The tears were flowing freely down your cheeks and falling onto your collarbone. Your hospital gown was stained with little droplets.
For the first time, Dean noticed the bruising on your neck from where Dick had pressed his arm into your throat. He felt the same hot rage coursing through his veins and bit the inside of his cheek. All you had ever done was to happen through Dick’s path and he had slaughtered everyone close to you…
_ _ _ _ _ _
”Easy. EASY! Y/N! Goddammit!” Dean slammed the passenger door to the Impala and rushed to you again. “Did you not pay any attention to what the doctor just said?” He put his arm hastily around you as you attempted to walk down the stairs to the bunker without your crutches, instead of holding them like the most annoying piece of luggage in the world.
”I’m sick of being broken,” you groaned. But you allowed Dean to take some of your weight off your right leg. You wrapped your arm over his shoulder and leaned in, hobbling as best as you could towards the door.
Dean chewed the inside of his cheek as your hand brushed the back of his neck. He readjusted his shoulders slightly and guided you to the door. “You’re halfway healed up. If you try to do things too fast you’re just going to set yourself back even further,” he said. The gruff edge to his voice was even more pronounced than usual, a byproduct of him worrying over your condition.
You pouted at him as he forced your crutches on you so he could leave you for a moment to unlatch the door to the bunker. “I hate when you’re all logical. I already get enough of that from Sam,” you said as you entered the door Dean was holding open for you.
”What about me?” Sam called up to you. He was walking through the war room to the table with an old book in his hands.
”Just that you keep an annoyingly close watch on me to make sure I don’t have any fun,” you said moving towards the staircase. Dean slammed the door behind you and rushed over when he saw you seizing up how to get down the stairs by yourself.
”Y/N! Stop!” He rolled his eyes at you and gave you an exasperated look. “You’re gonna break your neck.” He again wrapped an arm across your back and onto your waist, taking the weight from your right side on his shoulders as you put an arm over them. He abruptly cleared his throat.
Sam laughed. “Ahh. So by fun you mean further physical pain and suffering,” Sam said with a smile.
”Something like that,” you replied as you reached the bottom of the stairs.
”So, how was the check-up?” Sam inquired. He took the crutches from your free hand and got them ready for you while Dean maneuvered you down the last step.
”She’s doing okay. But doc says rest is still important for that knee. They’re gonna leave the pins and the rod in.”
Sam nodded. “Only 3 more months and you’ll be in tip-top shape, Y/N,” Sam said with a grin, holding your crutches out for you.
You tucked them under your arms and shot him a glare. “Shut up, Sam.” You sighed as you looked around the bunker. “I’m going stir crazy in here. I’m sick of being holed up and laid up.”
Dean let out a gruff laugh. “Alright. Well, if you rest now like you’re supposed to I could be convinced to accompany you on a walk out of doors later, okay?”
You shot him a half-smile. “Walk? Really Dean? Poor word choice,” you said, gesturing to the boot on your leg and the crutches in your hands. “Oh, and please, don’t put yourself out on my account, Mr. Winchester…”
Sam grinned at the exchange and took his leave back in the library. Dean joined him not long after. “Where’s Y/N?”
”Actually doing what she’s supposed to for once and taking a nap,” he said, propping his feet up on the coffee table and reaching for the lore book he had left off. “I had to trick her into falling asleep though by putting a movie on. She’s asleep on my bed…”
Sam watched as Dean nervously rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. He smiled warmly at his brother. ”That was good that you went with her today for the check-up,” Sam said. Dean could sense some other meaning behind the words and glance up at his brother.
”Sam–” he started.
”I’m just saying… You two seem to have a good thing going there,” he suggested casually. Dean slammed the book on his lap closed.
”There’s nothing.”
Sam cast him a skeptical look.
Dean’s face darkened and he was silent for a long moment. When he spoke again it was forcibly slow and measured, gravelly and deep. “I remind her of the worst time of her life, okay? That’s when I, that’s when we, came into play. She probably can’t even look at me without remembering what happened.” The intensity in his voice was building. “That douchebag took everything from her and we waltzed in to confirm that it was all real, not some nightmare she could wake up from. You don’t want someone who does that.” Dean angrily picked up the book and started to rush towards the door away from Sam.
”You won’t even entertain the possibility! How the hell will you ever know?”
”I’ll tell you what I know, Sam. I know that she doesn’t see me as anything more than…a friend.” He swallowed hard and hated to admit how much it hurt for him to say those words out loud. They were constantly whirring through his brain in the small hours of the morning when he couldn’t sleep and thought desperately about making some drastic move where he would knock on your door and tell you everything… He cracked the knuckles of his hand absentmindedly. “And I know that if you bring this up again I’m gonna punch you in the jaw.” Dean stormed away with his jaw clenched.
Sam settled back against the backrest of the couch, shaking his head.
_ _ _ _ _ _
You awoke and stretched as best as you could, your annoyance with the heavy boot on your leg already starting mere seconds after you returned to consciousness.
You blinked in the dim light and looked beside you. Dean was gone. All he had left in his place on the bed next to you were wrinkled covers. The television was stuck on the DVD menu and you found the remote next to you and clicked it off.
It must be nearing dark by this point. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but you knew that must have been Dean’s intention when he suggested the movie. It was too much to hope for anything else…
You rose from the bed, noting the blanket that had covered you with a smile. You hobbled out into the hallway, forgoing the crutches as usual. “Dean?” you called hesitantly. You were met with silence. You made your way slowly out to the war room and found Dean hunched over a book on the table, a tumbler of whiskey clutched in one hand as he read. It looked untouched.
You slid a hand onto his shoulder, using him for support as you pulled out the chair next to him and sat down heavily. You bent to adjust the Velcro on your boot and let out a breathy exhale as you suddenly felt Dean’s hand gently cover yours where it rested on his shoulder. You looked up abruptly, feeling your cheeks flush pink even before you saw that his green eyes were turned to you. There was an unusual look in them…one you couldn’t place and you nervously bit your bottom lip. Dean’s eyes flickered down to watch you chew on it before again connecting with your gaze. “Would you be interested in that walk now?”
You felt paralyzed by the look in his eyes. There was something both fierce and tender in them, and you knew that didn’t make any sense, but it was pulling you in. It was all you could do to nod. He slid his hand off yours and stood, leaving the undrunk whiskey forgotten on the table. “Wait here,” he said quietly. The quiet and mystifying tone of his voice was giving you butterflies.
You laughed as you saw him return from down the hallway with your crutches. He waited patiently while you hopped your way over to the staircase and he helped you up and outside.
You had been right about the time. The evening was getting on and the sky was beginning to streak with colors from the setting sun, setting fire to the tops of the trees and sending the river ablaze with reflected oranges and reds. You made your way down the winding lane in silence at first. You were content breathing in the fresh air and watching the birds wheel in flight overhead. Dean hesitated as you made it to a spot where the road curved into two forks. One fork was paved and led back into town. The other was an old dirt road that led through some grassy clearings lined with trees. “Are you up for the road less traveled?” he asked.
You gave him a half-smile and nodded, following his lead as he stepped off the pavement and onto the dirt. You walked some more in silence until you began to notice Dean fidgeting with his sleeves and clenching and unclenching his hands as they hung by his sides. “Are you—is everything alright?”
The moon had risen overhead and daylight wasn’t quite spent, but the quality of the light was changing from warm to cool. Purples and blues were replacing the burning hues of the setting sun. Dean turned and stood in front of you suddenly, scuffing his boots in the loose soil.
”How do you see me?” Dean asked suddenly. His brow was furrowed with intensity.
”I’m sorry? What?”
He nervously paced in place and fidgeted with his hands again. “I just—you met me,” he shook his head like he was trying to clear a thought away, “us. You met us at…at a horrible time in your life. It was the end,” he said. He swallowed and forged ahead, more afraid with each second that he would lose his nerve. “It was the end of what you knew and—“
”Oh my god,” you said suddenly. Your eyes were wide. “Dean—“
He was staring at you, his resolve rapidly diminishing due to the look of shock on your face. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I—“
You brushed the hair away from your face. “Ok. I—Ok. I get it.”
Dean’s expression went from regret to vexation. “You do?”
”Look, you guys have been nothing but beyond amazing to me and I really don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
Dean’s look of vexation continued. “Overstay your welcome?”
You nodded. “It might take me a few days but I can find someplace and I’ll get out of your hair. You don’t need to say anything else,” you said. There was a pit suddenly forming in your stomach. Your heart now felt like it was limping along too. To say you were surprised would be accurate but you always couldn’t blame him and Sam for—
”What the hell are you talking about?” Dean’s voice snapped you out of your spinning thoughts.
You were avoiding his gaze. You were afraid if you met it that tears would well up and that wasn’t something you needed Dean to see. He didn’t need to know how sorry you would be to leave… ”You guys want some space. I totally get it. I mean, you’re right. When I met you, things were, well, the worst, really… But I’m doing much better now—so I’ll get out of your hair and—“
Dean’s fingers found your cheek suddenly, grazing lightly over your skin. You stopped your rambling trail of thoughts and there was no preventing yourself from meeting his magnetic gaze. “I don’t want you to leave. That’s what I’m trying to say,” he said. You let out a small breath. The gruffness in his voice was associated with home and comfort now and you felt it all wrapping around you, seeping into your mind, and making you feel lightheaded. You felt high on Dean.
”What?” you breathed.
”I don’t want you to leave. But I know me and Sam, we’re associated with the worst part of your life and I get that you couldn’t—I mean you don’t… We came in at the end; the worst end. That’s all I’m trying to say,” his hand fell from your cheek and you longed for it to come back. The touch of his skin on yours in such a tender and intimate gesture was electric.
“Couldn’t what?” you breathed out.
Dean avoided your eyes this time, looking down at your leg in that heavy boot and furrowing his brow with the memories of your meeting and first days together…
”Dean. You’re wrong.” This got his attention and he met your gaze again. The darkness now enfolding you was giving his eyes a deep forest green tint, but they were reflecting the shimmering light from the risen moon and the stars beginning to dot the sky. “You’re wrong about it being the end,” you looked down at your hands. “I mean, it was the end of some things. But it was the beginning of,” you turned your gaze back to his face, “something else. A new story,” you said. The last three words came out in an unintentional whisper.
His eyes were burning again; fierce and tender. He took a step closer to you. His eyes were searching every inch of your face. “You don’t think of me only as part of that end?”
”Part of the end?” You asked, incredulous at his assumption. “Dean, you’re the beginning. You’re the whole story,” you said with a laugh, giving him a look of disbelief that he could have assumed something so wrong. You couldn’t help but crack a smile at him, anticipating, hoping to God you were reading it all right.
He needed no further encouragement. His hands clasped your face and yours flew to wrap around his neck, crutches cast off and forgotten. Neither of you even registered their clatter on the dirt road as your lips crashed together. Dean’s hands slid down your back and settled on your waist and lower back, pulling you in tight against him and kissing you hungrily; fiercely and tenderly at once. You were lost in him and his touch. Your heart was pounding fast and your cheeks were burning. Heat swelled in your chest and all that existed for those blissful moments was Dean and his touch and his smell and him. You smiled into each other’s lips as you finally broke apart.
“And I thought you only thought of me as another in a long line of damsels in distress,” you said with a smirk, not releasing your hold on one another.
”Nah,” he said. “I always knew you were the beginning. I just never dared to hope we were in the same story.”
”We get to write our own, you dunce,” you said with a playful smile.
”Mmm,” he nodded. He arranged a serious look on his face. “Then we should revisit that part we just added. I think some re-reading is necessary.”
You laugh jovially, pulled his lips against yours again, and relished the thought that this really was the beginning.
ns 15.158.61.43da2
