#imaginemethisplease

“Why the hell were her eyes black, Cas?”

Dean had been so terrified that night. Even Cas seemed scared. My body instinctively shuddered at the memory. I remembered the feeling of the two powers surging through me.

Was it power? Or just destruction?

Whatever it was, I didn’t want to feel it any more.

“I’m more worried about why her eyes were glowing white.”

Was that even scarier? I wasn’t sure. Angels. Demons. They both were terrifying to me. But to think my friends--- no, my family was just as scared of me… It was more than I could handle.

Marco has been silent since that night. Not even the strange feeling like I was being watched that he normally gave me. Nothing.

Every part of me felt deserted. Nothing to catch me when I fall.

I glanced over at the door to the hotel they had taken me to. They had given me my own room. Whether out of consideration or fear was anyone’s guess. I know they were talking about me. The three of them.

I’m as good as dead.

Whether it was my friends out of fear…

Angels or Demons for power…

Or myself for what I had become.

“I’m dead,” I whispered.

“Not yet.” Sam was at the door, a soft but slightly forced smile on his face. “Not while we’re round.”

I hadn’t heard the door open.

“You should kill me, Sam. Should have as soon as you saw my eyes that night.” I muttered quietly. It was one of the first conversations I had even had since that night.

“What the hell are you talking about, [Y/N]?” Sam bellowed. “Why on earth would we do that?”

“Whatever lies within you would destroy us all before we even tried,” Castiel said behind Sam.

“Cas…” Sam whispered, annoyance in his voice. He turned back to me sympathetically while Castiel blinked obliviously behind him.

My face contorted back into it’s default position, ready for a pained sob. I stood up and brushed past both men, almost angry at being treated like a threat, even if I probably was. I ignored their objects. I knew they’d follow me anywhere I went anyway. I got a few steps out of the door when I saw Dean emerge from behind the Impala. He looked up and froze when he saw me.

His eyes…

They held nothing but dread and what could almost be read as contempt. I threw my arms to my side, my nails digging into my palm. I took a deep breath in, my anger and sadness bubbling over. I let out a deep and agonizing cry, releasing all of my emotions that had built up. Dean whipped around but I had already started into the woods behind the hotel.

I stumbled but kept walking, knowing Dean was close behind me. I wasn’t going to be someone they feared. I wasn’t going to be useless. I had been through hell. Twice. I became a hunter once, when I looked for Dean and Sam after Crowley had taken me. I traveled the world finding those in pain and attempted to help them. I had faced Demons and won.

I wasn’t useless.

I wasn’t a threat.

I would prove it.

“Why would I panic?” you said but instantly covered your mouth. “Why isth my voice high!?”

Sam stifled a laugh.

“And why do I have a lithp!?” You looked down at your hands and saw small hands; child hands. Your eyes looked back up at the younger Winchester and your face twisted into a frown. You had to be around 6 or 7 years old. You began to sniff, feeling the tears form.

“W-what happened?” you choked back a sob, feeling your child like emotions kick in.

“Witch.” Dean walked out of the bathroom wiping his hands off on his shirt, a small smile playing on his mouth. You glared through your teary eyes. “Apparently the bad ass who takes her out gets revenge thrown back at them.”

Your mind flashed back to a bloody battle with a medieval strength witch. She had shot curses and spouted spells but you had stopped her before any of them were finished. She had a deal with a demon you had been tracking closely. The demon who had killed your parents. You had gotten information out of her in a private interrogation. You wouldn’t let the Winchesters in on it. You weren’t a fan of talking about your past, let alone your plans on revenge.  The slaughter you took out on the witch wasn’t something you were necessarily proud of but that woman was as good as a demon. She was working her way there.

“You were a mess when we found you.” Sam patted your head. “You tore her a new one.”

“Just like my [Y/N].” Dean grinned. “Kicking ass and taking names.”

You let out a small childish laugh, still crying but Dean could always cheer you up. Usually you would banter back and forth, the sexual tension palpable. It wasn’t the case here. At least if it was, Dean would have been arrested.

“What info was that important, [Y/N]?” Sam questioned, eyes empathetic. Your gaze darted between the brothers and you felt your childish innocence creep in and you ran into Deans arms. He gasped but picked you up into his arms, brushing your hair down as you sobbed into his shoulder.

“She knew about the demon--- who… who…” you sniffed. “My parents.”

Sam’s eyes widened and he ran a hand through his hair thoughtfully.

“You never told us, [Y/N].” He whispered. “We could have helped you.”

“No. No, it’sth my probwem.” Your conscious effort to hide your little kid accent had disappeared. “I can do it on my own. I-I still wemember all the blood. My mommy screaming.”

Dean’s grip on you tightened as he felt your shoulders shake.

“I’ve never seen you like this. You need to take some pointers from little you.” He whispered. “You can’t hold everything in all the time, [Y/N].”

You burrowed your head into the crook of his neck squeezing as if your life depended on it.

“I was scarwed.” You whimpered. “I didn’t want you to leave me.”

“[Y/N], we’d never leave you.” Sam stood up and patted your back affectionately.

“I’m never gonna let you be alone, got me?” Dean slightly demanded and you nodded. Your body relaxed, your sniffs slowed down. Dean and Sam could hear your breath slow and a small snore escape your lungs. They smiled at each other and Dean went to set you down on the bed. Before he could let go you whimpered and grabbed hold of him tighter. He looked at Sam looking for an answer on what to do when suddenly the weight of your arms became significantly heavier. Your adult body dropped to the floor sending a jolt through you and waking you from your child-like slumber.

“I guess the spell wore off.” Sam shrugged, still in shock from the loud thud of you falling. You looked up at Sam and Dean, feeling your face grow warm from embarrassment.

“I—I don’t know what to say.” You put your head in your hands. Dean knelt down to you, a hand grasping your cheek.

“You don’t have to say anything.” He smiled. “Let’s go find that Demon.”

Every instinct of your adult life screamed in resistance but you remembered what Dean had said.  You needed to take some advice from child you. They trusted you and you needed to return the favor. Holding in all emotions and anything that softened you wasn't healthy. It was time to try and change. You nodded with determination filling your demeanor. 

Sam Winchester. The bane of your existence. Your weakness.

You loved him, and that scared you more than any monster you would ever face.

Every move he made sent a shockwave through you and it had finally reached your breaking point. You couldn’t watch him oogle girls at bars anymore. You couldn’t pretend that the thought of losing him on a hunt brought you to tears. You just had to go on a hunt alone. Something to get him out of your system. Something to make you forget that he didn’t feel the same way about you.

So much for that.

A tear streamed down your face as your head fell against the pillar you were tied to. Resignation was just in reach and the footsteps sped up.

“Come on!” You urged the attacker. “Just get it done with. Turn me. Eat me. Just do something, you bastards!”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to the people trying to get you out of here.” Dean’s hushed voice called out behind you. Your heart leapt out of your chest as Sam rushed to your side, pure worry in his eyes.

“God, [Y/N].” Sam took your face in his hands and brushed your hair out of your eyes, no doubt assessing what injuries you had. Dean was untying your binding. “Just hold on, [Y/N]. You’re safe. We got you.”

Your arms fell to your side and your head bowed.

“S-sorry boys.” You muttered. “I thought I could do it on my own.”

Sam’s face strained a smile and he looked at Dean.

“[Y/N], you don’t need to do it on your own.” Sam wiped the tears on your face away with his thumbs. “You don’t ever have to, okay?”

Dean cleared his throat.

“I’m going to go make sure we got all the vamps.” He nodded to his brother. “Glad we found you, [Y/N].”

You smiled weakly and wrapped an arm around Sam’s to pull yourself up but Sam sat you back down.

“[Y/N], why did you run off on your own?” Sam pleaded. “We could have helped.”

You shrugged.

“I know.” You gave him a weak smile. “I just had to get away for a bit. You know, give you guys some spa---“

Sam pulled your lips to his with desperation sending you into a completely new wave of sensations, and a new fit of tears. He brought you closer to him, gingerly but with purpose.

“I thought I’d lost you.” Sam whispered, pulling away and looking into your tear stained face. “I don’t… I don’t know what I would have done.”

He was crying now and it nearly tore you apart.

“Sam… Stop.” You said wiping his tears away this time. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m okay.”

You brushed his hair aside as his face was wrought with exhaustion and relief. Your body ached, your emotions were running wild and the man you could honestly say you loved was crying in your arms. You couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening. You whispered assurances to Sam as he pulled you completely into his grasp and held you tight as if you would fly away at any moment. You could hear his heart beat rapidly.

“I never thought you would see me more than just some hunter you worked with.” You said quietly. “I was tired of hiding and forcing everything aside. Emotions didn’t belong on a hunt so I had to try and, I don’t know, purge them or something. That’s why I went on my own. I just---“

“Don’t think like that, okay? You have always been more than that to me. You’re so special, [Y/N].” He brushed down your hair gently. “I can’t believe I couldn’t make you see that.”

You both sat in each other’s arms for a moment with nothing but sniffs and the sound of steady breathing.

“This would be a really romantic moment if I weren’t covered in blood, you know.” You coughed out weakly, feeling his laugh reverberate within his chest. 

“If you would have just told me how you felt we maybe could have avoided that.” He remarked. You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Touché.” You laughed and pulled away to look Sam in the eye. “All cards on the table from now on?”

“Deal.” He said, beaming and helping you to your feet.

“Now that we’re being honest,” You groaned from the pain of getting brought back to a standing position. “I totally use your shampoo.”

“That explains a lot…” Sam chuckled, wrapping your arm around his neck and lifting you off the ground. He’d carried you like this countless times after rough hunts but now it felt different. You were being held by the man you loved who you now knew loved you back and that made the gesture a lot more special.

“It’s okay. I think Dean uses it too.” Sam assured you as he kicked open the door to outside where Dean and the Impala were waiting.

“Let’s get you home.” Sam said to you with a smile as he carried you across the yard. His arms were warm and your aches seemed to be fading. You rested your head on his shoulder with an exhausted but content sigh.

“I kinda feel like I’m already there.” You whispered as you felt yourself slipping into sleep.

“That was a good line.” You could hear Dean say from the front seat of the car as Sam gently set you in the back of the car. Sam slid next to you and rested your head on his lap, brushing your hair out of your now closed eyes. 

You fell asleep to the sound of classic rock, an engine purr and the whispers of two brothers who saved your life.

“[Y/N]?” Dean whispered as he looked upon her sleeping form. She looked so peaceful, a smile eased across her face as she snored quietly. He watched her stomach as she took breaths in and out. He saw her muscles twitch, a habit he had noticed when she had fallen asleep in the Impala or on the couch after a long trip.

Dean looked down at his hands and attempted to grasp what was happening. He didn’t dare touch her, feeling as though she could break and disappear at any change. His guilt overwhelmed him. His remorse. His loss. It was all embodied in her sleeping body next to him. His eyes filled with tears and he let out a scream that could have shaken a house. She barely moved, even with his outburst. It had to be some sort of cruel prank his mind was pulling on him. He then heard some whispering beside him. It was her voice mumbling in her sleep.

“We have to stay… strong…”

Dean shot up from his sleep in a cold sweat.

It had felt so real… But it couldn’t have been.

The walls of the bunker seemed to close in around Dean and his loneliness sank in like a knife. It had only been a few days since the night she came to him and said goodbye. The night when she had sold her soul for his. Dean flinched at the cruel memory that wouldn’t stop replaying.

“The Dean I love wouldn’t want to be like this”

The Dean she loved…

Her words replayed over and over as Dean dwelled over the sacrifice she had made. It was the second time she had sold her soul and this time certainly hadn’t seemed like it was worth it. At least in his opinion, which was never very high in his favor. The sheets on his bed were tangled and his hair messed up from tossing and turning.

“She was right there…” He thought to himself recalling what he had seen. His mind was swarmed with thoughts of his deeds as demon. He expected to have nightmares but something had occurred in his dream he hadn’t expected. He would wake up in the hunter-esque room with her sleeping serenely on the worn out couch. He wanted to reach out and touch her but was so terrified she would go away.

While he was awake Dean did nothing but remember what he had done. The horrible things he had said to her and to all those who he cared about. He thought about Crowley and how he took advantage of Dean’s ‘condition’. Anger welled up within him but was sedated by the thought of her sobbing body holding him in her arms as she told him goodbye. Rage was replaced with grief; a new but equally incapacitating emotion.

 Dean hadn’t told Sam about the dreams. What would he say? That he was having dreams where he was seeing her and he was watching her sleep? Every night he would explore the room a little further. Each exit would only return him to the other side of the room. An infinite loop. It took a few days for him to venture into the fridge against the wall where he found his favorite beer… and hers set perfectly on the shelves. He’d take one, pop off the top and settle back into his chair.

She never stirred more than the movement of her breathing.

Each day he saw her he would quietly whisper: 

“Please… Wake up, [Y/N].”

It wasn’t until nearly two weeks of his visits had gone by that she responded. It was slow but Dean could see awareness seep across her face. Her eyes squinted as they adjusted to the light. He silently took in the sight of her moving. The sight of her alive. Dean didn’t say anything, just simply watched and smiled. He didn’t care if it was a dream. It was better than the alternative.

“You’re awake. Good.”

“Dean, where am I?” she asked in a panic.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, okay?” Dean assured her. He was attempting to play out this meeting as normal as possible. He reached for a beer and held it out as a peace offering.

“God, she’s so real.”

 He thought as he watched her take the beer tentatively. He smiled as he felt the resistance on her side of the bottle.

“This is a dream,” she stated, still confused.

“Maybe. But it’s a good one, right?” Dean said with an honest laugh and hope in his voice. Hearing her voice again was a gift.

“Where am I really? The last thing I remember was—-“

She disappeared with a flash and Dean sat up straight in bed with a cry.

“[Y/N]!” Dean threw himself off the bed, running his hands through his hair. What happened?  She had woke up so peacefully and then disappeared in an instant. Her face was plagued with terror as it faded from view. He shook his head to get it out of his mind.

“No. No. It’s just a dream, Dean.” He paced around his room, his t-shirt soaked with sweat. “Damn it, Dean. Snap out of it!”

He slammed his hands down on his desk. The items littered on top were knocked over.

“Dean, what’s wrong!?” Sam rushed into the room, knife in hand. Dean looked up at his little brother and attempted hold everything in. He straightened up and ran his hand down his face.

“I—Uh… Sam…” He looked Sam in the eye. “I saw her. [Y/N].”

Sam stood quiet for a second and looked over at Dean’s disheveled bed.

“A nightmare?” Sam questioned. His muscles relaxed as his hunter instincts faded back to base line. Dean shook his head and sat at the edge of his mattress.

“No, man. I mean, it was a dream but it was- It was so real.” Dean looked up at his brother with pure confusion in his eyes. Sam simply listened as he leaned against the desk and set the knife down. He folded his arms and stared at his obviously distraught brother.

“It started a few weeks ago.” Dean explained how he had seen her sleeping and how it was nothing more than that. But when Dean described the events of last night’s dream Sam’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Dean, I think it’s just your mind reacting to everything you’re going through.” Sam said after a small amount of silence. “You’ve gone through a lot, man.”

He put his hand on Dean’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring shake.

“Think of it as a blessing, I guess.” Sam shrugged with empathy in his voice. “Is there anything that makes you think that it’s more than a dream, Dean?”

Dean looked up with a hurt expression.

“No.” He lowered his head and clasped his hands as they rested on his knees. “Guess not.”

Sam patted his brother’s shoulder again and went back to his bed, leaving Dean with his thoughts. That was the last thing Dean wanted to do. Think. He decided to try to sleep again. He laid his head back down on his pillow and began taking steady breaths. His eyes closed and he was once again taken away.

There she was again. Sleeping soundly with the awkward grin on her face. This time, she spoke first:

“I-it was worth it for him,” she said through sleepy yawns. “Him and Sam…”

“You really think that, don’t you?” Dean watched as she got up awkwardly and stared into his eyes. It was like she was alive. And he didn’t have to feel guilty anymore.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“Hell if I know—-” Dean said without thinking, smacking himself mentally at his insensitive comment. “Sorry… “

And with that she was gone again. Dean woke up with his stomach churning and heart pounding. He swore he heard her scream before disappearing. He shook it from his mind. Sam was right. This was a blessing. He had been given another chance to be with someone he owed his life to, even if it was just a dream.

He took each “flash” as an opportunity to grow and a chance to help him work through his thoughts. She became more comfortable with each time the dreams would happen. It didn’t happen every day or every time he slept, unfortunately. But it did seem to happen when Dean was at his lowest. He’d be whisked into a dream world where she was alive, and happy. She’d stretch out on the couch and ask him questions about his life, and she told about hers. Just talking was therapeutic.

“Believe it or not I miss my dad too,” Dean said once. “Son of a bitch screwed up a lot. But he’s still my dad, you know?”

Her reply hit straight to his core.

“Some people you love through their darkest days.”

He could only hope the people in his life could feel the same way, and that somewhere deep in hell she truly felt that way too.

When the topic of her selling her soul would creep up into conversation it always took a turn for the worst. She’d try to joke and shrug it off but it never sat right with Dean.

“I can’t believe you did it, [Y/N].” Dean was still coping and took a swig of his hard liquor. Apparently the conversations warranted something stronger than the normal beers in the fridge.

“Me either,” she said. Dean’s eyebrows wrinkled and his eyes dropped.

Was this how she really felt about what she did? How insignificant she thinks she is?

“Not here, Dean!” she cried out causing Dean to jump. “This is my damn happy place now say something nice or I’ll bring you down here with me!”

Her conviction was deep, for a dream. It reminded him of when they had first discovered each other was alive. Dean admired the way she could turn a conversation to something better. Something happier and hopeful. 

“I’m just trying to get away… I’m in hell, for god’s sake! It’s all I have.”

Her words rang true and turned the conversation back on track.

His head was stooped and his breathing shallow.

“You saved me again Dean,” she responded and simply smiled an honest but pleading smile. “Just talk to me, okay?”

Dean couldn’t say no. And he didn’t really want to.

The days passed and the pain became less and less overwhelming for Dean. His guilt would always linger but the dreams would help alleviate it, even if it were only for a little bit. He found it easier to talk about his feelings there, something that he ordinarily would have shrugged off. 

“I— We miss you.”

“That’s awfully kind of you to say,” she said as she laughed at him. “Even if you are a dream.”

What?

“You’re the dream.” He said.

“Um, no,” she was saying the impossible with fire in her eyes. “I’m in friggin’ hell right now. You’re the one who is in my dreams keeping me sane.”

 Any of the remaining feelings Dean had repressed surfaced with a vengeance.

“You’re not real!”

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. She took all her energy and threw it into Dean’s face with a slap. Dean nearly fell over.

It was her. She was there. He had felt her hand, even if it was painful, it was still her.

He touched his face, still in shock but relishing in the reality of the blow.

Neither of them knew what was happening or why. He only knew that somehow they were actually together. Somehow they had connected.

And it was awesome.

He couldn’t stand not being in contact with her. His hands were grasping her cheek as he wiped away tears, ignoring his own single streams of tears.

 ”Damn it, [Y/N]. I’ll get you out.”

He had promised before losing her in his arms and waking up in his cold room in the bunker. He bolted into to Sam’s room.

“Sam!” He cried out as he looked for his brother. Sam sat up with a look of bewilderment. It must have been pretty early.

“Dude. What?” Sam grunted. “You’re the one always throwing a hissy fit for me waking you up early. What the hell?” “She’s real, Sammy.” Dean panted. “She isn’t a dream.” Sam’s eyes widened. “What?! [Y/N]?” Sam asked. Dean nodded. “How?” “Pfft.” Dean scoffed happily. “I don’t know and don’t care but she’s amazing, man. She slapped me and everything.” “Sounds like her.” Sam laughed. “We have to get her out.” Dean expected a fight about priorities or “moving on” but Sam nodded. “Okay.” Sam’s jaw tightened as he agreed to the massive task at hand. “What do we do?” Dean’s face sank. “I have no clue.” —- Each day after that was spent researching. Book after book. Lead after lead. Nothing. No information on connecting through dreams. Dean and Sam worked through cases that would come their way and do their traditional work but focus was kept on her escape. Castiel even took a break from his angelic duties to give Sam and Dean as much information as he could, which wasn’t much. Their best guess was it had something to do with the grace left on her arm when she was lifted from Hell the first time. Dean tried to sleep as much as possible, which proved to much more difficult than it sounded. He didn’t always get to see her when he slept so it was a crap shoot. The days he didn’t see her in his dreams were days when the nightmares came. Each minute of sleep never felt like rest. His eyes were baggy and his body moved slowly. But it wasn’t that way in his dreams. The way it felt when he pulled her next to him in his arms felt divine. It felt like… Redemption. He tried not to think of what it was like in Hell for her. The topic rarely came up but when it did the lights seemed to dim in the room. Dean did anything to swerve the conversation elsewhere. “Do you feel guilty?” she asked one day, around seven months into the search for an escape route. Of course I do “This was my choice, and I don’t regret it.” Well I do. I’m the one who was the demon. It was my fault.  “Thank you again, Dean.” Why would you thank me? “How cute.” Crowley said. Damn it. Dean’s body reacted instinctively and pushed her behind him, keeping her hand in his and close to his body. He wouldn’t lose her again. He wouldn’t let her be alone. It couldn’t happen again. When he felt her body slipping away it took all he had not to throw punches toward anything he could. He cursed and swore and did his best to hold on as he could hear her voice whisper faintly with pure defeat in her voice. ““Dean…Please… Don’t—-“” Dean sat up on his bed, face wet with tears and a sore throat from what he could only figure as him screaming in his sleep. Sam stood at the door, worry in his eyes. “Dean, what happened?” he asked quietly. “Crowley.” he seethed. “I have to get her out. Son of a bit—-“

“Dean. Calm down…” Sam said a quiver in his voice. “Dean. It’s okay.”

Sam finally got Dean to a point where he wasn’t out for blood and in a clearer mindset. It didn’t change the mood though. Sobs filled the bunker that night, not only from Dean but Sam as well. The tragedy and ache of losing family hit a harsh high. Someone who they loved and had sworn to help was just placed back into the literal depths of Hell with no one there on their side.

And they had no idea of how to save her.

But that never stopped a Winchester.

Dean and I had never crossed the line of a romantic relationship in reality, regardless of what either one of us felt. But once we found out we could touch it became a hunger to be in some sort of contact whenever I was with him. Just to feel the warmth and the kindness of someone’s touch was an immeasurable comfort. It may have only been my foot touching his. A hand grazing his knee. Anything. Just to feel alive for once. This wasn’t romance. It was healing.

Dean felt the same way. His guilt was overwhelming him and I could see it in his eyes. As much as seeing me was something he enjoyed it was also a reminder that I had sacrificed myself for him. That only made him more determined to be there for me. He’s go out of his way to sit a little closer. Talk a little softer. It became a mutual need that we work together to ease one another’s struggles.

Eventually, when a flash would arrive he would gingerly sit beside me, open his arms and allow me to scoot close and hear his heartbeat. The steady rhythm was music to my ears. His breathing was my salvation. It was like being home. Being safe. No blades. No fire. Nothing but the hollow echo of Dean’s voice and breath on my ear. His hand would brush against my arm, running down it with a reassuring chill shooting up my spine.

Dean was more than a friend.

Dean wasn’t my lover.

Dean was my life line.

I didn’t know what was happening in the real world, and I didn’t much care. I would just sit and listen to Dean tell stories. Simple as that. I could hear tales of monsters and heroes, all true stories. It gave both Dean and me a welcome distraction from my torture and the horrors that lurked in Dean’s mind. He knew what hell was like. He knew what I was going through, but he knew better than to mention it. It would only hurt us both.

“Did I ever tell you about Charlie?” Dean said.

I shook my head.

“I think I remember you mentioning her.” I said, partly into his chest as I listened for the pulse of his heart. He laughed and I felt it rumble through his chest.

“She’s a computer hacker we met when we were fighting those Leviathan creatures I told you about.” Dean explained, bitterness in his tone I only heard when talking about particularly awful creatures. “Turns out we needed ourselves another nerd besides Sammy.”

I laughed.

“She sounds amazing.” I said.

“We went to this medieval festival thing she was at where we met this fairy chick.” I could hear him smiling as he talked. “Too bad the fairy had a thing for Charlie, ‘cause man, she was hot.”

I let out a loud guffaw and pulled my knees in close. Dean rested his chin on my head. It was times like these that I wish we could have done this in real life. That I could have been held by someone who could keep me safe. 

 “This is weird, Dean.” I said suddenly. He pulled me out of his arms.

“Considering you’re in hell and I’m not, yeah. I’d say this is weird.” He said bluntly. “But damn, I don’t really care.”

I scratched my head and awkwardly scooched away, but still kept my legs near his as I still needed that physical tie back home. Without the touch I felt like I would be torn away from my friend. Torn away from what I longed to be my reality.

“I mean, all of this. We have no idea how this is happening.” I shrugged sadly. “I think this might do you more harm than good.”

He frowned and ran a hand through his hair.

“You aren’t moving on, Dean.” I said. “I’m not there anymore. There are so many people who need you.”

Dean grabbed my arm and pulled me back close to him. His arms were like a blanket.

“Why you gotta ruin the moment, [Y/N]?” He said after holding me in silence. “I was getting comfortable.”

“Dean.” I looked up at him. “Do you feel guilty?”

He looked down, his eyes narrowed.

“I always feel guilty.” He confessed. “It’s what I do.”

“You know this isn’t your fault.”

“We could have figured something out.” His voice became more heated. I could hear his heart rate pick up, and it made me unsettled. “Sam. You. There had to be another way. We had that cure for the trials. Why didn’t you do that?”

I looked down.

“I just wanted it over with. I couldn’t stand to see you that way.” I wilted into his arms. “It doesn’t matter what I did or what could have been done. It’s over now.”

Silence.

It wasn’t totally uncomfortable. We just listened to each other breathe, proving that we were somewhat alive and present. I took his arm from around me and held it out to him.

“Look.” I nodded down. Dean’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at his forearm in my hands.

“What?” he was puzzled. “I don’t see anything.”

“Exactly.” I answered. “I didn’t know if a demon would take my deal. I knew Crowley was probably up to something but I wanted to take the risk. The demon who made the deal with me told me that Mark would still be there. The Mark of Cain. Only way to get rid of it had to be through this deal.”

Dean frowned.

“You know, for trying to make me feel less guilty you aren’t doing so hot.” He replied attempting to brush it off.

“Dean, I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I want you to know I did what I had to do.” I pulled his face to look at mine.

He reluctantly caught my eyes.

“You’re not getting any younger and there are a lot of monsters that need hunting.” He tried to turn away but I caught him.

“Hey. Look at me.” I breathed. “This was my choice, and I don’t regret it.”

He stared sadly and fidgeted underneath my grasp. I simply smiled and slapped his face lightly.

“Stop thinking about it, okay?” I put my head back against his chest. His heart was steady again. “You’re stressing me out. Tell me more about Charlie.”

“We did a battle reenactment. That was pretty awesome.” He smiled as I changed the subject successfully.

“Please tell me you dressed up.” I pleaded.

“Hell yes we did!” He cheered. “Damn, it was awesome. We kicked ass too. Should have seen their faces.”

This is what I needed. Dean happy. Talking about people he loved.

“How’s Sam?” I asked. Dean shrugged.

“He’s alright. We’ve just been hunting since you left.. It’s been about 7 months since you changed me back.”

“That’s all?” I said with shock in my voice. It had felt like an eternity. Years. It made me sad. I was only a tiny part of Dean’s life, which was probably for the better. But knowing it was so long in between when we saw each other for me and how short it was for him made me a little bitter. I knew he was trying to find a way to get me out, but if it had been 7 months I could tell the search wasn’t going well. It didn’t matter. I didn’t want him sacrificing anything to get me out.

“We kept your room the same.” He said. “Didn’t feel right changing it, you know?”

“I appreciate it.” I said earnestly.

“You’re probably going to wake up soon.” I said forlornly. “Thank you again, Dean.”

“Don’t thank me. Please.” Dean asked. “Doesn’t sit right.”

“I’m serious.” I looked up. “It’s the only thing I have.”

Dean smiled down at me. It was so refreshing to see Dean smile and not his usual grimace he kept on when I was alive. 

“How cute.” A voice called form behind the couch with a familiar accent.

“Crowley.” I muttered and turned around. Dean grabbed my hand instinctively and pulled me up. He pushed me behind him and glared at the King of Hell, keeping my hand in his grasp.

“This is all lovely and good but I think it’s time we broke this little shindig up, hm?” He paced haughtily. “You’re taking up bandwidth.”

“You already have her in hell. What more do you want!?” Dean barked angrily.

“I’d like my best friend back.” He said with a play pout on his lips. “I’d like to get back to my work but somebody keeps taking me back to square one. I had plans for you Dean.”

“How are you even here?” I said, still being held behind Dean who was breathing heavily.

“How are you even here, darling?” He mused. “Do you two even know what’s happening?”

Dean and I exchanged glances.

“Ah, you don’t. Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?” He smirked. “Time to move on, squirrel.”

Dean turned around to face me with tears in his eyes.

“No!” He yelled and I felt his body fading away from my arms. “Damn it, Crowley! Stop!”

I could hear him yelling even as he was disappearing.

“Dean…” I whimpered. “Please… Don’t—-“

He was gone.

I was chained up again.

Nothing but Crowley staring me down happily.

“Nothing personal, love.” He tucked a strand of blood stained hair behind my ear, wiping his hand off with a grimace afterwards. “Just needed my boy Dean back on the playing field.”

He turned around and ushered my torturer in.

“It’s good seeing you.” He tossed over his shoulder. “Best of luck.”

Suddenly, the chains felt a bit heavier. The flames hotter. And the burden of being alone crushing down on my shoulders with a newfound heaviness.

My torturer laughed at my sunken head. My body loosely hanging with no resistance. I looked up to catch his gaze when I realized what Crowley had done.

“This makes it a bit more interesting, doesn’t it?” the Demon mimicking Dean’s face smirked. “Crowley wanted to make it a bit special for you.”

The demon drew blood from my cheek and smiled Dean’s smile.