Dean x Reader233Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxPFoqqL2sP
Warnings: some language233Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpmqQcwMfVa
Summary: The after-effects of the spell Dean cast must be dealt with. There are suddenly four of you in the room instead of just three…233Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJwpUSGoOKM
233Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpHztDQs6KG
You lowered the arm you had used to shield your eyes slowly, afraid of what you were going to see. Sam did the same behind you.
Dean was standing stoically, staring straight ahead at the outcome of the spell he had cast.
You and Sam exchanged an uncertain look that was mingled with disbelief.
”Mind shutting the door, Sammy,” Dean said without moving an inch.
Sam closed and latched the heavy iron door behind the both of you. The echo of the clanging metal was harsh in your ears as you stared uneasily at the fourth figure in the room, the one Dean had just summoned into the center of the permanently installed Devil’s trap.
You wanted to criticize Dean’s decision, scold him for being reckless, but not in front of him… He seemed to still be getting his bearings, shaking off the effects of being ripped from wherever he was to this spot where he was powerless. You watched with hatred as he rolled his shoulders back and cracked his neck.
He looked straight up at Dean, who still hadn’t moved at all, and his lip curled into a sneer. His shoulders began to shake with a deep laugh, which echoed and rang in your ears even more horribly than the ominous sound the heavy door latch had made.
Sam stepped forward to stand next to Dean but you stayed well back from the scene.
”What’s so funny, Luther?” Dean asked. His voice was deep and gruff, shaking with anger he was trying to control. “The way I see it, you’re screwed. Trapped like a rat in a cage.”
Luther continued to smile cruelly at Dean. “However did you manage to summon me here? That’s a tricky little spell to work. I’m surprised you managed to find all the ingredients,” he said casually, pacing around the edge of the Devil’s trap.
”Well, getting my hands on a bit of you was the hardest part. I went through about a dozen of your associates before one of them complied. But a single hair from the meat-suit you’re occupying did the trick.”
Luther nodded. “Hmm. Clever little monkey,” he said to Dean. “And I see your sidekick Sam is here too.” Luther stared hard at Sam for a long moment. “But he didn’t even let you in on the plan beforehand, did he little Sammy?” Luther laughed aloud again and resumed his circle of pacing. “What exactly is the plan, Dean? I’m not convinced that you thought this all through.” Luther suddenly stopped abruptly. He tilted his chin upward and sniffed the air a few times like a dog facing into the wind. “Mmm,” he said closing his eyes. “My favorite is here,” he said quietly. It sent a shiver up your spine.
Luther’s eyes shot open and landed directly on you. The smile on his face grew into a sick grin. “Why don’t you stand up and trot over here so I can see you better, Y/N? Oh—that’s right. Oops,” he said with a smile.
Your face flushed hot with anger and humiliation.
”You son of a bitch!” Dean drew his knife and made to charge at Luther. Luckily Sam was fast enough to hold him back.
”Dean! Stop! Settle down… just take it easy,” Sam said to him in an undertone.
Luther threw his head back and cackled in sick amusement. “Aww… did I hurt your feelings?” Luther hissed at you in a mocking, fake sympathetic voice. “And look at Big D over here getting all hot and bothered on your account,” he laughed a quiet, cruel laugh again and bit his bottom lip in pleasure at the pain he knew he was causing all of you.
”I swear to God, I’m going to kill you,” Dean growled at him, still being held back by Sam.
Luther turned to look at Dean with his cold eyes and smiled at him again. “I’m sure you believe that. But it won’t fix Y/N’s legs. Will it, Dean? She’s still going to be broken. And it never would have happened if you had been able to finish the job years ago!”
You felt nauseous and lightheaded and turned away from the scene in front of you.
”Alright. Come on, Dean.” Sam began pulling Dean away towards the door. “That’s enough. Let’s go.”
Dean clenched his jaw and unwillingly allowed Sam to steer him back towards the exit to the hallway. You followed the boys out.
”Don’t worry sweetheart! I’ll be waiting right here for you!” Luther called after you as you wheeled yourself out behind the boys. Sam slammed the door shut on him and rounded on Dean.
”Dude! What the hell?!” Sam demanded.
“What?” Dean snapped back, flicking his finger on the edge of his knife, a scowl on his face.
”You know what! This is a terrible idea? What were you thinking?”
”I’m thinking I’m gonna get that jackass to fix Y/N’s legs and then I’m gonna stab him in the neck,” Dean said bluntly. “We’ve got a demon knife this time.”
Sam grabbed his head in exasperation. “He’s not gonna help Y/N! He’ll die before he does that! He’s a demon Dean!”
”I’ll be persuasive,” Dean said blankly.
”And what if he gets out?” Sam demanded. “Huh? Then what? He’ll know where the bunker is, exactly where to find us! Hell, he’ll probably just kill all of us on his way out the front door!”
”He’s not gonna get out, Sam.”
”You don’t know that!”
”I said he’s not gonna get out!” Dean retorted. “That Devil’s Trap is forged in iron, set into concrete! It’s doubled on the floor and the ceiling! And the room is iron! He’s not going anywhere!”
You felt suddenly weary listening to the two of them railing at each other back and forth and you started down the hall towards your room, the nauseous feeling in your stomach still far too noticeable. You shut the door to your room behind you, hoping to close Sam and Dean’s argument out.
This is insane. It was amazing how you went from feeling on top of the world from Dean’s lips on yours to completely broken so quickly. You pulled yourself out of your wheelchair and onto your bed, settling back against the headboard and staring up at the ceiling. Suddenly a vision of Luther standing in the center of the Devil’s Trap flashed in your mind. You put a hand to your head and shut your eyes against it. Another flash and you saw his vicious smile. He was here. He was only a few walls away. The words he had said to you in that desert warehouse in New Mexico rattled in your skull again and your heart pounded faster as anxiety started to take hold of you. ”I’ll keep taking until you have nothing left…” Now you saw the horizon tilting through the windshield of the Impala, the view in slow motion as the crash began…
You jumped at a sudden knock on your room door and passed a shaking hand over your eyes. “Come in,” you murmured.
Dean stepped into your room. There was a fire in his eyes and his jaw was clenched. “Hey. Are you ok?”
You looked up at him and furrowed your brow deeply. “Do you really want me to answer that?” Another flash of Luther’s face surged forward in your mind’s eye and you nearly whimpered out loud as you clutched a hand to your forehead.
”Whoa. Hey. Y/N? What is it?” Dean sunk onto the edge of the bed next to you. You didn’t answer, only kept your eyes shut against the flashbacks. “I promise this is all going to work out. It’s going to fix everything,” Dean said.
You decided then not to tell Dean about the snapshots you were quite sure Luther was somehow forced into your mind. “Dean, I can’t be here with him just—just down the hall. Just knowing he’s there makes me feel…” you hesitated, “sick and terrified.”
Dean swallowed hard. “Hey,” he said, taking your trembling hand in his. “I know this is a shock but I’ve been working on this, planning for it, since—“ he couldn’t bring himself to talk about that day when he had nearly lost you for good. “It’s going to end everything. I promise.”
You looked into his sincere green eyes and shook your head. “I can’t stay here with him in there,” you said again. “And I know you think you’re going to undo what happened to me but this is Luther we’re talking about. And it’s not worth you going as dark as you would have to, to torture him enough, to change his mind. Maybe I’ll go stay at Bobby’s for a while…”
Dean looked down away from your face and let your hand drop onto the quilt. “You can’t leave, Y/N. I need to be here to do this but I also need you with me, where I can keep you safe. If you leave—the bunker is the safest place for you.“
”Not with him here. I can’t do it, Dean. I’m sorry.”
Dean clapped his hands and leaned his elbows on his knees, looking down at the floor blankly. “Don’t go. I don’t like it.”
”I know you don’t. But I don’t like being mere walls away from the demon who nearly killed me and who robbed me of my fight and freedom.” You shut your eyes again as another image, stained red with blood, of crushed glass and twisted metal and smoke flashed in your mind.
”I guess if you feel that way then you’ve got to do what you have to.” Dean’s jaw clenched tighter again. “I’ll get Sammy to take you—“
”No. I’m not leaving you here alone with him. No, I’ll call Bobby to come down and get me.”
Dean nodded a little stiffly and got up to leave without looking back at you. When he got to the threshold he finally turned back and you saw the pain in his eyes, which were shining a little too much for the light in the room. “I’m sorry for always being such a screw-up,” he said. He was gone into the hall before you could stop him.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Bobby drove through the night to get you. He had cursed Dean out on the phone about his reckless plan. Dean had stood silent and taken it passively before handing the phone over to Sam.
Dean had actually been pretty much silent since your talk the night before. You hadn’t been able to sleep with Luther in the bunker and so you had stayed up all night in the library. Dean wandered through several times, suffering from his usual insomnia, and although he had taken long looks at you he hadn’t said a single word. You weren’t mad at him. You actually understood why he had done what he had… he wanted to set things right so desperately… but you worried that he was going too far to do so, straying into dangerous territory.
”Take care of yourself, Y/N. We’ll keep you updated,” Sam said, giving you a tight squeeze.
You nodded. “Okay. I will. Thanks, Sam. Be careful.”
Dean had put your duffel bag in the trunk and slammed it shut. As he walked over to you Sam and Bobby both pointedly turned away and walked back into the bunker under the pretense of discussing a plan of action.
Dean shifted his weight a little uncomfortably as he stood in front of you. “I wish you wouldn’t go,” he said. The usual gravel in his voice was thick.
You looked down at your hands in your lap. “I know.”
”Everything is going to be fine,” he said. You nodded and looked up at him, catching his green eyes.
You felt tears start to form in your own and tried to blink them back but you were fairly certain that Dean had seen them. “Please be careful, Dean. Don’t—don’t do anything rash,” you pleaded.
One corner of his mouth turned upwards, flitting into a half-smile for just a second. “Rash? Me?” His face turned serious again. “It’ll be alright. Sammy and I have got this.” He bent down so he could look fully into your face. His eyes wandered over your features. “You stay safe,” he said. And he leaned in and left a kiss on your cheek. He lingered and leaned his forehead against yours for a brief moment and you felt like your breath had been stolen. As Dean drew away and stood up again you were left with a pit in your stomach.
Soon you were settled in Bobby’s old junker car and were watching Sam and Dean’s figures growing smaller in the rearview mirror. You blinked away the tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks and clearing your throat. Bobby pretended not to notice, and you were grateful for that.
”This will be over and you’ll be back before you know it, kid,” he said as he took the turn onto the highway.
You didn’t put into words how empty your chest felt all of a sudden and the knot that was twisting tightly in your stomach. Suddenly another image of Luther surged forward in your mind’s eye. He was grinning viciously and you saw a knife clutched in his hand… another flash of him standing in the Devil’s Trap… You shut your eyes tight and clutched your forehead, doing your best to deny the terrible sense of foreboding.
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