Kyjey

“Hey, Peter,” you said, quickly rushing inside the house, following him upstairs to your bedroom. He pushed open the door, Sam giving you a weary look before his gaze drifted over to the figure staring out the window. 

“He hasn’t moved in two hours,” said Sam. You shrugged out of your winter coat and boots, patting across the hardwoods in your wool socks. “Or talked. He won’t-”

You smirked when you saw Dean’s face, Sam cutting himself off. 

“Is he having a breakdown?” whispered Sam, Peter rolling his eyes at Sam’s overprotectiveness.

“No, no nothing so serious,” you said, lightly grazing your finger against Dean’s bonding gland, his body lax. You gently guided him to the bed, helping him sit and lay down, his eyes quickly shutting. “He was sleepwalking.”

“Sleepwalking?”

“I told you so,” mumbled Peter, heading for the exit. “Let me know if you’re going back out Y/N.”

“Will do,” you said, urging Sam out after him, gently pulling the door shut when you were in the hall. “And yes, sleepwalking. It’s incredibly common in formerly feral Alphas. Dean’s only about six weeks out from being feral so it’s expected. It normally stops around the three month mark.”

“Huh, never knew that,” said Sam, staring back at the door. “Sorry. I know I’m still a little nervous about him sometimes.”

“Hey. It’s understandable. Dean’s rehab wasn’t like everyone else’s,” you said, heading down the hall with him, Peter seeming to have grabbed your coat and boots for you. “So Christmas is in a few days. I wanted to make it extra special for him.”

“I mean we decorated the house and got him presents and everything in between. What were you thinking?” he asked. 

“He’s so nervous to go out in public. I know there’s still a lot of attention on him but I wanted to try and take him out. To walk through the light show at the park. Go ice skating at the little Christmas village there. Let him have fun without being afraid.”

“Y/N,” he said as we walked downstairs. “I thought you said it’s going to take him a long time to get to that point. How are you going to take him to the most crowded place in the city when he has to psych himself up to go visit Benny? In a private space?”

“I have an idea,” you said, biting your bottom lip. “But I need your help.”

Dean was grumpy the next day. He knew you were taking him out of the house that night which he didn’t have a problem with if it was to see Gil and Sophia at their place. But you weren’t telling him where you were headed just yet which meant your Alpha was in a mood. A mood you very clearly felt through your bond.

“Dean,” you said that evening, knocking on the doorframe of your room. He sat angrily on the couch by the fire, crossing his flannel covered arms and frowning. “Alpha. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to go wherever the hell you’re taking me, that’s what’s wrong.” You sighed and knelt down in front of him, Dean reluctantly letting you take his hands in yours.

“I know you know I’d never hurt you. We both know you’re scared and I don’t blame you. The media still very much wants to know all about you. It’s invasive and scary when all you deserve is good things in life.”

“I’m not ready,” he said quietly. “Please not yet.”

“If you don’t want to go, we don’t have to,” you said, Dean’s body relaxing. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

“I can try.” You titled your head, Dean smiling back when he opened his green eyes, a gentle nod given to you. “There’s a lot I didn’t think I could do when I met you and you keep proving me wrong. I want you to keep doing that.”

“This will be fun. I promise. We can also come back home if you decide you don’t like it.” He hummed, scent nervous but a tinge of excitement underneath it. “But we do need to get you in some warmer clothes first.”

“Warmer clothes?”

Dean looked handsome in his tan wool hat and the new navy winter jacket Sam had picked up for him earlier that day. His winter boots squeaked when he stepped out of the car, gloved hands immediately grasping yours when you got out beside him.

“That’s a lot of people,” said Dean, watching people wandering around the Christmas village, his gaze assessing the scene carefully and ignoring the pretty Christmas scene before him.

“Smell the air,” you gently urged, Dean’s nose twitching up for a moment, his brow furrowing.

“That’s…a lot of Alphas,” he said as you pointed at the luxury buses in the parking lot, not the usual cars that would be there. “What’s-”

“Oh you kids made it!” said Sophia as she jogged over, giving Dean an extra big hug. He melted into it, Sophia kissing his temple. “You smell so tense, sweetie. Go have fun with the others! I think I saw Gil and Sam with Benny over by the ice rink.”

“Benny’s here?” he asked when you looped your arm through his, walking with him towards the entrance.

“Of course! All of the stage three and beyond Alpha’s from the facility are. Y/N had the idea of a field trip for everyone and their families so they could celebrate the holidays without any outside pressure,” she said, an Alpha you recognized from the facility coming up.

“Dr. Insler! Avery is asking for you over at the light tunnel,” they said. She gave a quick goodbye, leaving you and Dean to wander slowly inside. Dean stopped you both once you were there, his gaze wandering out as people shuffled around from one activity to another.

“How the hell did you shut down one of the most popular Christmas spots in the city two days before the holiday?” You shrugged, Dean shaking his head. 

“Sam did most of it. I just had the thought,” you said, Dean looking around at the lights, the decorations, a silly smile spreading onto his cheeks. “You deserve a night of fun along with all these other Alphas.”

He leaned in and kissed you slowly, grinning through it and lighting up your insides. “Thank you for making me come out tonight, for making a whole lot of messed up people’s nights.”

“You guys aren’t messed up. You’re just in need of some care,” you said, Dean giving you a side hug, kissing the top of your head. “So. Since this is your first Christmas in a very long time, what would you like to do? Skate? Games? Do the light walk?”

“That hot chocolate looks pretty good,” he said with a smirk. “Ladies first.”

You woke up the next day with a sore butt from a hard fall on the ice rink. Dean hadn’t skated since he was a boy but he picked it up again instantly, teasing you for having two left feet and clutching him the whole time. You hadn’t cared though. 

Dean had smiled the whole night and that boy deserved a lifetime of that.

You were surprised when you made your way downstairs and found Peter and Dean putting on their winter coats, Peter twirling a pair of car keys in his hands.

“Morning,” you said, getting a kiss from Dean, Peter going outside to start the car. “Where are you boys off to? Visit Benny?”

“It’s Christmas Eve and I realized, I haven’t done any shopping,” he said. You pursed your lips. You and Sam had both made it clear to Dean that having him was the best gift you could ever ask for. He pressed a finger to your lips and chuckled. “I won’t be gone long, just going to pick up a few things and then I’ll be home to wrap them.”

“Dean you don’t have-” He shushed you, pressing his forehead against yours. “The stores will be so busy-”

“And I have Peter and a hat and sunglasses. This is my first Christmas in forever and I sure as shit am going to do it the right way and make sure my family has gifts from me.” You stared at him, wanting to argue but if this was what he truly wanted, you weren’t about to stop him.

“Do you want me to go with you?” you asked, his head already shaking. “Alright. Be safe and have fun.”

“I will,” he said, pecking a kiss on your cheek. He slipped out the door, Sam padding downstairs with a yawn in his pajamas. 

“Is he going out alone?” he asked. You hummed, Sam nodding once. “Good for him. I know he wanted to pick out your engagement ring himself.”

You felt flush, Sam chuckling. “I told him I don’t need one. We’re already mated.”

“Try telling him that. He adores you,” he said, heading down the hall for the kitchen. 

You smiled, ducking your head down and feeling a flurry of warmth in your core you knew Dean would be feeling.

“Yeah. I love him too.”

His eyes flicked from your face to the bag dangling at your side, one eyebrow arching. “Where are you going?” he asked, his voice calm but strained.

Holding your chin up, you swallowed the nerves down, dragging the strap further up into a more secure position. “Something I should have done a long time ago.”

There was no reaction on his face; no anger, no amusement, nothing. It unsettled you. But you hadn’t been sure what to expect from Dean for years now. He’d changed, become harder, colder, when he lost Sam. You both knew it. You just didn’t talk about it.

“You’ll die out there,” he said, his casual manner chilling you to the bone. Did he even care if you did?

You shrugged. “Better than dying here.”

A flinch. The tiniest of movements, but you knew you’d gotten to him and it gave you a tiny thrill of satisfaction. Just a taste of the pain he’d caused you.

He moved, and you jumped at the sudden step. The reaction made him freeze, and then you saw something else - hurt - cross his features. “I wouldn’t hurt you,” he accused, voice softer now, filled with pain.

You could feel tears in your eyes. “You already did,” you whispered brokenly, sniffing to try and stop the anguish in your throat. “I knew, Dean. I knew the whole time. About Risa, Jane, Marie… I knew and you lied to me. Told me it was another recon meeting. Weapons training. And just because it’s the end of the world doesn’t mean I don’t have a choice.”

Dean didn’t say a word, not even to defend himself. There wasn’t much point in denying it now.

“I kept thinking I could make it better,” you sighed. “But you’re never gonna change. Since…” You sucked in a breath, unable to say the words you were thinking. Since you lost Sam. “Since Detroit.” Meeting his gaze, you kept control of your composure, fisting your hands at your sides. “I don’t think you’re capable of love anymore.”

His jaw clenched. You didn’t want to see how his rage came out, and you didn’t want to drag it out any longer.

“Take care of yourself,” you mumbled.

“Can’t we talk about this?” he asked suddenly, the coldness evaporating. Your shoulders dropped, and you gave him a pitiful look.

“There’s nothing left to say,” you replied gently.

The only thing left was walking out the door. You just had to make it past him.

Every step was shaky and the closer you got, the more you saw the anguish on his face, but he didn’t move, watching you with glassy eyes. As you moved past, his hand shot out, grasping the top of your arm in a firm but not painful grip. “Please,” he whispered, turning his head to let you see the pain in his eyes. “They meant nothing to me.”

You inhaled sharply, searching his face for the truth. “Do you love me, Dean?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “If I said I did, would you stay?”

“Just asking that,” you forced out through gritted teeth, “means that if you did, you wouldn’t mean it. So no.”

“I can’t let you leave,” he murmured softly.

“Let me go,” you demanded, pulling at his hold, scowling when he didn’t release you. “Dean!” 

Your bag hit the floor as you tried to escape, only he was stronger. In an attempt to free yourself, you twisted, but he anticipated it, shoving you hard until your back hit the wall, sending an empty picture frame clattering to the floor. In the next second, you found yourself caged in by Dean’s arms and your heart pounded in your chest as he stared at you.

He hadn’t been this close in weeks. The smell of him was intoxicating, and you remembered better times, when he’d touch you like you were the only woman in the world for him. 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you released an involuntary moan, pressing your hands against his chest. The moan was followed by the tiniest whisper of his name, and he struck without hesitation, crushing his mouth against yours, forcing you harder against the wall. You responded in kind, fisting the material of his shirt, gasping as he ground into you.

It was probably a stupid idea but you ignored the sensible side of your brain, too desperate to be touched to think about it. You knew you should have stopped it at the first kiss, then the second, or when his fingers curled up underneath your shirt, popping buttons as he went, except you didn’t stop there, undressing him as quickly as he was undressing you.

Your shirt and his ended up tangled on the floor, and he pulled you from the door, making it as far as the table before his hands were tugging at your pants. You kissed over and over, breaking apart only to remove clothing, and your impatience had his pants around his ankles and his cock in your hand while your jeans dangled from one leg. There didn’t seem to be a place for any words, and when Dean sank two fingers into your wet heat, you cried out, desperately trying to stroke him as he fucked the thick digits into you.

Grunting his name, you rocked against him, ass scraping against the wooden tabletop. He panted into your mouth, working you into a frenzy, pulling back just to watch your face twist into a mask of pleasure. “Cum for me,” he murmured, mouthing at your jaw.

You were almost blind from the bliss in your veins; your hand dropped as your concentration lapsed but he didn’t stop. He kept you grounded with slow strokes as you fell over the edge,  and when you began to settle back into your bones, you felt him, hard, nudging at your entrance.

His eyes locked on yours as he sank into you, and you swallowed down a cry at the penetration, clinging to his shoulders. One of his hands slipped down to cup your ass, the other steadying you as the shoulder as he sank deep and held himself there. It struck you with sorrow when you looked into his eyes, realizing how much you’d missed this, but knowing that you needed more.

He kissed you again, starting to rock into you. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself the indulgence of his touch, of being connected to him, enjoying the warm buzz lingering in your head from your first orgasm, already feeling the beginnings of a second. Dean had always known just how to make you quiver, but it was soured by the knowledge that you weren’t the only one.

Pushing those thoughts away, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, tangling your fingers in the unruly short hairs at the back of his head. He groaned against your lips, both hands on your ass now, slamming into you with enough force to make the table shake. Your noises were muffled until you needed to breathe, inhaling hard and exhaling with a drawn out moan as you started to cum again.

When you were almost through, he withdrew, manhandling you onto your stomach across the table, barely sparing a second before he was sinking into your warmth again. At this angle, his strokes drove you onto tiptoes, and you scrambled for purchase as your brain short-circuited with pleasure. Dean growled, hands on your hips, driving into you harder and harder until you were screaming his name.

Finally, he choked out a single “fuck” and thrust deep. Warmth spread out from where his cock kissed your cervix, trickling down until it was dripping onto your thighs. You went slack, cheek against the table, listening as Dean grunted and pulled away, expecting him to dismiss you.

His hand slipped around your wrist, tugging you up. You stumbled, falling right into his arms, and another kiss. “Come to bed,” he whispered, nuzzling your cheek.

You hesitated, glancing at your bag. One bout of great sex didn’t fix the problems between you but when you looked into his eyes, he looked so earnest, and so like the Dean you loved.

“Okay,” you murmured, offering him a weak smile.

He smiled back, and you knew you’d be gone by morning.

He was on his back, snoring lightly, one arm underneath your pillow, the other draped across his chest. Like this, with his features relaxed, you could see the young hunter you’d fallen in love with, the one who had smiled. The only man you’d ever loved.

It felt like an appropriate way to say goodbye. He didn’t need to be awake.

Dressing quickly, you found your bag where it had been abandoned, quietly hoisting it onto your shoulder as you went for the door, glancing back nervously in case Dean had woken up. Satisfied you could sneak away without his notice, you slipped out of the door, closing it carefully so it didn’t slam.

On the horizon, the sun’s first rays were beginning to turn the night sky pink. You stepped down carefully from the cabin, wary of the squeaky step at the bottom, then headed down the path. At this hour, you shouldn’t have expected anyone but the sentries to be awake, but naturally, you encountered another obstacle to your freedom, laying in the grass with nothing on his feet and a lit joint in his hand.

“You’re leaving.”

Castiel’s statement was slurred, and you briefly wondered what he was high on tonight. “Yeah,” you replied. “Are you going to stop me?”

He chuckled, rolling his head toward you. “The stars put on quite a show tonight,” he grinned, holding out the joint. “You sure I can’t persuade you to watch with me?”

You smiled fondly at the former angel. “Take care of him, Cas.”

He regarded you for a second, pushing up into a seated position. “There’s nothing out there, you know.”

“Turns out there’s nothing here either,” you sighed. “I’ll be okay.”

With no further argument, you turned your back on Cas and headed for the gates. The sentries didn’t stop you, so you hurried out of the camp and onto the road, heading south. In truth, you hadn’t decided where you were going to go yet, but you had family in California, and there was always the hope someone else had survived.

It grew lonely quickly in the next few days. You took to humming songs, forcing yourself to remember lyrics to take your mind off of how tired or hungry you were. Sleeping was a tricky prospect, requiring a good hiding place if you wanted true rest, and you had to scout any potential safe areas as you went. Though you didn’t encounter many Croats, you remained alert, keeping your machete close in an effort to conserve your limited ammo.

A week after you had left, a storm rolled in. You found sanctuary in a gas station, lucking out on a full stockroom that hadn’t been plundered. As the thunder and lightning raged outside, you ate Twinkies and snatched a brief few hours of calm in the lockable room.

It was dark when a sound disturbed you from outside. You woke and sat up, machete already in your hand as you listened for whatever was making the noise, assuming that at worst it was a Croat, at best, a raccoon. Getting to your feet, you crept to the door, unlocking it as silently as possible before peeking out.

There was nothing you could see. The wind blew an empty chip packet across the floor, and the moonlight shimmered on the shelving as the storm clouds moved on. You gripped your weapon, stepping out with a hope that your raccoon theory was correct.

And then he stepped out. Dressed in a crisp white suit, eyes glowing a subtle red as he smiled. He breathed your name like a prayer, a smile on his face that didn’t seem to fit right. You felt the cold wrap around you like a ghostly embrace. Dean’s voice echoed in your head.

You’ll die out there.

Lucifer’s smile didn’t waiver. “I was hoping I’d run into you.”