#reader insert angst

The Hogwarts grounds were heavy with the dull, rhythmic patter of rain. The storm had rolled in unexpectedly, blanketing the castle in a thick shroud of gray. Despite the downpour, the Quidditch pitch was alive with anticipation. Today’s game was set to be a fierce one, but your mind was elsewhere, entangled in a storm of its own making.

Fred Weasley hadn’t spoken to you in days. You had messed up—badly. He’d seen your death mark. Being with you was already a risk to him, you being a Slytherin and all, but to have the Death Mark burned into your skin? That was too much for him. Thankfully he didn’t tell anyone about it and kept it to himself. You only got it cause your parents had forced it onto you. You didn’t necessarily have a choice. You hadn’t meant for it to happen, but the damage was done, and now Fred was angry. No, angry was an understatement; he was furious, betrayed, and the sting of his silence cut deeper than any words could.

Standing under the bleachers, you watched Fred’s red hair dart in and out of view as he prepared for the match. The rain was coming down harder now, the pitch turning into a slick expanse of mud and water. Players ran back and forth, but all you could see was him, determinedly ignoring your presence as he readied his broom.

You pulled your cloak tighter around you, trying to muster the courage to do what you came here for. Fred was stubborn, and it wasn’t in his nature to forgive easily, especially when hurt by those he trusted. But you couldn’t let things end like this. You couldn’t let him take off into the sky with this weight between you.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped out from the shadows and onto the rain-slicked grass. The cold stung your cheeks, and the wind whipped your hair wildly around your face. You pushed forward, each step heavy with the gravity of what you were about to do.

“Fred!” you called, your voice barely carrying over the noise of the storm. He didn’t turn. You tried again, louder this time, your voice cracking as you fought against the wind. “Fred, please!”

He paused, shoulders tensing, but still didn’t turn around. The other players were mounting their brooms, readying for takeoff, but Fred just stood there, staring straight ahead. His knuckles were white as he gripped his broom, and for a moment, you feared he wouldn’t even acknowledge you.

“Fred, I’m sorry!” you shouted, finally reaching him. The rain pounded against the earth, each drop feeling like a reprimand from the skies above. “I never meant for any of this to happen. I didn’t mean to—”

“Didn’t mean to what?” Fred’s voice was cold, cutting through the noise like a blade. He turned to face you, his expression hardened. The Fred you knew, the one with the easy smile and mischievous twinkle in his eyes, was nowhere to be found. “Didn’t mean to betray us? Didn’t mean to agree to put that mark on your arm? Didn’t mean to lie to me for 3 years?”

His words hit like a punch to the gut. You had no defense, no excuse that would make this right. You could see the hurt in his eyes, the way he couldn’t even look at you without a flicker of pain crossing his face. And it was all your fault.

“I know I messed up,” you said, voice cracking. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but please, Fred, I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

Fred looked at you, rain dripping down his face, mingling with the frustration in his eyes. For a moment, there was something else there—something softer, something that made your heart leap with a sliver of hope. But then he glanced down at your arm covered in your cloak and it was gone, replaced by the mask of anger he had worn since everything fell apart.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not just about the mark. It’s about trust. I thought you knew you could trust me and I could trust you. I thought you were on our side. I thought you were different than half the other Slytherins here. And now—”

Fred’s voice wavered, a flash of vulnerability cracking through the anger. He took a shaky breath, gripping his broom as though it were the only thing anchoring him in the storm.

“And now,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion, “I don’t even know if I can look at you without feeling… without remembering how easily you broke that trust. You have no idea what it’s like to have the one person you care about the most let you down like that.”

You swallowed hard, each word twisting like a knife in your chest. This wasn’t just anger; this was heartbreak. The realization settled in, heavy and cold like the rain soaking through your clothes.

“I do know,” you said quietly, your voice almost lost to the storm. “Fred, you have to believe me. I’ve never regretted anything more in my life. I would do anything to take it back, to make things right.”

Fred stared at you, the rain running in rivulets down his face. His expression was conflicted—anger, sadness, and something else flickering behind his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again, shaking his head like he was trying to shake off the pain.

“It’s not that simple,” he said, his voice breaking. “You can’t just fix this with an apology.”

You stepped closer, desperate to close the chasm that had opened between you. “Fred, I know it’s not enough, but I’m not giving up on you. I’m not giving up on us. I’ll do whatever it takes. Please… just tell me what to do.”

For a moment, Fred just looked at you, his gaze searching, as if he was trying to find something in your eyes that would make everything okay. You reached out, gently touching his arm, hoping that the connection, however slight, might bridge the gap between you. Fred flinched at the contact, but he didn’t pull away, his eyes locked onto yours.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” he said finally, his voice strained. “I want to believe you. I want to trust you again, but… how am I supposed to forget? How am I supposed to act like it doesn’t hurt every time I look at you?”

Your heart ached at his words, at the raw honesty of his pain. The rain was relentless, soaking you both to the bone, but you barely noticed. All you could see was Fred—the hurt in his eyes, the tremor in his voice. You wished you could just take it all back, erase the mistakes and start over. But you couldn’t. All you had were your words and the hope that somehow, they might be enough.

“I’m not asking you to forget,” you said softly. “I’m asking you to give me a chance to earn your trust back. To show you that I’m still the person you believed in, that I’m still the person who cares about you more than anything.”

Fred looked at you, his expression unreadable, his grip tightening on his broom. The storm roared around you, the wind howling as if the sky itself was raging at the injustice of it all. And then, finally, Fred took a deep breath, his gaze softening just a fraction.

“I need time,” he said, his voice barely audible over the wind. “I don’t know if I can just let this go. But… maybe I can try. Maybe.”

It wasn’t the forgiveness you’d hoped for, but it was something—a flicker of hope in the midst of the storm. You nodded, tears mingling with the rain on your cheeks, grateful for even the smallest chance to make things right.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I’ll do whatever it takes, Fred. I promise.”

Fred nodded, still looking conflicted, but he didn’t pull away as you squeezed his arm gently. He glanced up at the sky, the rain still pouring down in sheets, and then back at you. For the first time in days, there was a flicker of warmth in his eyes, a small, hesitant glimmer of the Fred you knew and loved.

“We’ll see,” he said quietly, before mounting his broom and kicking off into the sky.

You watched him go, your heart heavy but hopeful, knowing that the road ahead wouldn’t be easy. But for Fred—for the chance to make things right—you were willing to weather any storm.

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You broke off contact with Cloud and co. around a year ago. Being around them reopened wounds you were not ready to confront.

There were no hard feelings between you and them, but maybe some distance will help you heal.

...Or so you thought. The visions of Sephiroth whispering to you began not too long ago. At times, he would sound like his old self, calling out to you with happiness, asking when you would join him in the Lifestream.

Yet there were moments when he became angry, mocking your weakened state and accusing you of betrayal.

You were unsure of what was triggering these awful visions. You desperately searched for anything to rid of them and the strange stubborn black splotches on your skin gave you no relief.

As you were losing hope, three men with silver hair showed up at your door one day, offering you respite if you joined them.

Their honeyed words felt off to you, but yet you still agreed to follow them.

It wasn't that they resembled Sephiroth, or had aspects of him. No, definitely not.

They promised a remedy for your disease and you're going to get it.

The boys put on a facade of coolness when you were around, but as time passed, their true, childlike selves couldn't be concealed.

As soon as you gave one boy a head pat, the other two would start pouting and making a fuss until they got attention, too.

They spared no effort in trying to outdo each other, putting on a grand display just to impress you.

Kadaj reminded you of young Sephiroth. Though he's not polite, he exuded the same confidence as he asserted himself as the leader of the group despite being the youngest.

Whenever Loz wanted to show his affection, he would effortlessly pick you up, his cheek against yours, as he softly spoke of his emotions, just as Sephiroth did in his tender moments.

With the gift of his charm, Yazoo was skilled at pushing your buttons, much like Sephiroth, making you blush and stumble over your words whenever he directed a friendly flirt your way.

The boys gave you a haunting reminder of what could have been had Sephiroth not succumbed to darkness.

When they left you alone, you imagined more into that second life.. where he left Shinra with you and you two lived in a peaceful village. In that life, these three would have been the living embodiment of your love with him.

But reality was a cruel mistress... Still, you came to love each one equally. They're like the remnants of a shattered dream, the life with Sephiroth you'll never have.

You and Denki watched the liquid running off the table with wide eyes, before turning your gazes back to the enraged man before you.  His tall, bulky frame blocked you from the rest of the restaurant, leaving you feeling trapped and vulnerable.  His shoulders heaved as he took deep breath, trying and only partially succeeding in calming himself.

“What the FUCK do you two thing you’re doing?”

You swallowed, unable to speak as two ruby eyes seemed to sear their way into your soul.

“It….”  Denki stuttered, nervously shrinking into his chair.  “It isn’t what it looks like?”

“And what exactly do you think, I think this looks like?  Because to me, it looks like you two are slinking around in dark little coffee shops getting cozy while my best friend is curled up at home is his nest, practically catatonic from your shit!”

It was hard to maintain eye contact with the redhead, but you felt you had to.

“What Bakugou does isn’t my concern anymore.”  You spoke lowly, an eerie calm to your voice.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?!?!  And you, don’t think you’re going anyway, either!”  Denki sunk back into his seat, his escape attempt thwarted.  Kiri’s raised voice was drawing a few glances and murmurs.

“Look,” you sigh as you catch the looks coming your way “can we do this somewhere else?  Anywhere else?”

Kiri looked around, his cheeks tinged pink as he caught on to the attention focused your way.  He nodded once.  “Agency.  Now.”

You shared a glance with Denki and nodded.  It took a few moments to gather your things and settle your bill.  Kiri glowered from the door when he noticed you paid for both yourself and Denki.  The walk to the agency Kiri worked at seemed longer than it was due to the heavy silence.  Denki wrung his hands, trying to catch your eye, but you keep your stare straight ahead, not really focusing on anything.  Your brain picking at the bits of information Kiri had inadvertently thrown your way.  Bakugou wasn’t doing well?  He was nesting outside of his heat, which was unusual.  Or was it?  The dark hurt part of your brain whispered to you that you didn’t know because you’d never been allowed to see any nest.  Kirishima was actually visibly pissed, so it had to be serious…  Or maybe this was just what the first part of What Kiri and Katsuki getting together would look like.  Katsuki actually letting someone in.  Kiri being allowed to show the protective alpha side you had always been forced to repress.  Half felt like this is exactly how things were supposed to be.

But if that was the case, why did it hurt so much?

You continued to brood as the looming building of Kirishima and Bakugou’s agency got closer with every step.  Knowing that this would be the first time you were going to be allowed in didn’t help your mood in the slightest.  Kirishima led you and Denki down a side alley and through an unassuming back door.  A few turns down a hallway, and you were in a small workout room, by the look of it.  Kirishima locked the door behind you before whirling towards you and Denki, eyes blazing.

“Now, you two are going to tell me exactly what the FUCK is going on here!”

Denki cringed, half hiding behind you.  Your own nose crinkled from the strong angry scent pouring off of Kirishima.  And frankly?  It was starting to piss you off.

“Well you see,” you drawled as you glared right back at Kirishima, “my friend and I were enjoying a nice peaceful afternoon snack, when suddenly a huge stinking pheremoned out alpha came, knocked over our drinks, and started yelling at us.”  Your own scent was turning burnt and acrid as your volume increased.

“Jesus Christ, y/n…”  Denki threw up his hands, and backed away from you.  He could see where this was going, and he made sure to put some of the weight lifting machines between himself and the two angry alphas in the room.  Kirishima took a small step back, momentarily startled by your reaction before rage filled him stronger than before.  So you wanted a fight, huh?  Well, good.

“You know what I mean!  You go off in the middle of Bakugou’s heat.  Then a few weeks later, he’s damn near working himself to death, and when he’s not working, he’s curled up in his nest, refusing to talk to anybody!  And you’re nowhere!!!  Your omega is in pain, and you’re nowhere!”

The two of you had begun to circle each other slowly, glaring at each other.  The burnt smell of your combined anger was clogging the air.  Denki was covering his nose and mouth with his sleeve to keep himself from gagging.  You weren’t going to back down, though.  Why was this red headed rock sticking his nose into your business?  Hadn’t he got what he wanted?  Hadn’t Bakugou gotten what he wanted?  You were so tired of people telling you what to do, what’s best for you.  You were tired of being viewed as nothing but docile, someone who would just take what was given and not complain.  Well, you still were an alpha.  And you had had enough.  You could feel your fangs dropping down, the sharp tips nicking your lip.

“He’s not my omega anymore!”  You hissed at Kirishima.

“Why not?  So you can run around behind his back with his fucking pack mate?!?”  Kirishima roared back at you, inching closer with his teeth bared.

You laughed mirthlessly.  “Oh, please.  I just gave him and you exactly what you wanted.”

Kirshima shook his head, momentarily confused.  “Wait, what?  What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

As Eijiro’s anger cooled, yours only burned hotter.

“You heard me!”  You snarled, stepping closer until you were right in Kiri’s face.  “I.  Just.  Gave.  Him.  What.  He.  Wanted.  And he doesn’t want me.  Hasn’t for years.  All yours now!  Take him!  You were always going to anyway!”

Kirishima stared wide eyed, confusion having replaced all of his anger.  “y/n, what are you talking about?”

Maybe it was that your mood was running hot.  Maybe it was the stress.  Maybe it was because you had chemically suppressed your ruts for the last decade.  Maybe it was because you had been suppressing your alpha instincts for just as long.  It could have been any combination of those things.  But for whatever reason, that question from Kirishima was the thing to snap your teetering control.  With a frustrated scream of alpha rage, you swung, aiming at Eijiro’s jaw.  Your fist connected.  Unfortunately for your hand, years of hero training meant that Kirishima had hardened the area out of instinct.

“Fuck!” You yelped as you felt the bones in your fingers crunch.  The pain mostly brought you back to your senses.  You took a few steps back, sinking to the ground and clutching your injured hand to your chest.  Denki hurried up behind you, hovering and worriedly asking you questions that you didn’t really hear, let alone respond to.  Kirishima hesitated a moment before kneeling in front of you, his worry evident.  When he went to take your hand to look it over, you let him, the fight draining out of you.  He gently poked and prodded, as your breath hitched from pain.  Denki rubbed your back trying to sooth you.  After a moment, Kirishima spoke.

“Well, you broke it.”

You nodded with a snort.  “Figured.”

“Feel better now?”

You gave a sad half smile.  “I mean, my hand is killing me, but yeah.  Sorry about that.”

“Well, sorry my face broke your hand.  But seriously.  Just… What is going on, Y/N?  Because right now I’m really lost.  You and Bakubro love each other.  I know you two do.  But now he isn’t talking and what you’re saying is making exactly zero sense.  So can you please just walk me through it from the beginning?  I promise to hear you out.”

“God,” you sigh, tilting your head back.  “I don’t even know where the beginning is…  This whole shit show has been a long time coming.  I guess the most important thing is Bakugou and I broke up.  He’s very obviously wanted to for a while.  So he’s finally free to date you.  Then Denki and I were engaged though that was mostly our family’s fault for setting us up on a marriage date.  Then Denki got bonded, but not to me.  And then you showed up and I punched you in the face.”

You blinked up at Kiri as if that explained everything.  Kirishima looked at Denki with hopeless confusion.  Denki sighed.

“Come on.  Let’s get her hand looked at and then go to your office.  I’ll tell you as mush of everything as I know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were sitting on the couch, nursing your bandaged hand as Denki was wrapping up.

“... And then Shinso and I ended up bonding after the hospital let me go home.  Y/N was just taking me out for a celebration lunch when you showed up.”

Kiri leaned back in his seat, letting out a long breath.  “Okay.  Right.”  He said.  “That explains a lot.  Not everything, but a lot.”  He sat up again and looked directly at you.  “Though I want to know where the heck you got the idea that I want Bakubro as an omega.”

You couldn’t quite meet Kirishima’s gaze as you replied.  “It’s not a stupid idea.  He’s comfortable around you.  Much more comfortable around you than he’s ever been around me.  He lets you scent him.  He calls you his pack.  He not only lets you see his nests, he lets you into them sometimes.  I barely am allowed in his apartment, let alone being able to see his nest.  We haven’t scented each other with any regularity since high school.  You see him so much more than I do, and you understand him and his job in a way that I’ll never be able to.  You look good together.  He doesn’t mind when you act like an alpha with him.”

Kirishima blew out a breath.  “Okay… Okay, I can see what you’re getting at.  But seriously.  Bakubro is a bro.  I’ve never thought of him like that.”

You nodded, looking at the floor.  “Okay.  If you say so, I’ll believe you.  But it doesn’t change the fact that Bakugou has wanted out of the relationship for a while.”

“And did he tell you that?  Like actually tell you that?”  Kiri asked.

“He didn’t have to.  He made himself very clear.”

“And when was the last time you two sat down and seriously talked?”

You didn’t have a reply.  Kirishima sighed and rubbed his eyes.  “I don’t get paid enough for this.” he mumbled to himself.  “Alright!”  He said, clapping his hands together and standing up.  “You!” he said, pointing to you.  “You’re coming with me.”  And you!” he pointed to Denki, “You’re coming with too to make sure she doesn’t try to get out of this.”

You and Denki looked at each other in confusion, as you both stood up slowly.

“Where are we going, exactly?” Denki asked as he followed after you and Kirishima.

“To do something I should have done a long time ago, but I thought the two knuckleheads would be able to sort things out for themselves, without outside interference.  Guess I was wrong in that regard.”

He ushered you and Denki into the back of an agency car, before getting into the driver’s seat.  You questioned where he was taking you, but Kirishima just shook his head and kept driving.  It was a surprise when you ended up in the parking garage of your apartment.  Kiri got out, and opened up the door to the backseat.  “Out!”  He said.  You only hesitated a moment before you slide yourself out the the car, Denki following close behind.  Understanding was starting to creep across Denki’s expression.  

“Eiji, what?” your question was cut short with a yelp as Kirishima threw you over his shoulder.  He strode quickly to the elevator, Denki following close behind.  You beat your good hand against Kiri’s back as you tried to squirm your way out of his grasp.  Denki hit the elevator buttons, knowing what to do without being told.

“Eijiro Kirishima, you put me down!  What the hell?!”

Kirishima shook his head.  “Nope.  Not til we get where we’re going.  Consider this payback for the punch.”

The elevator dinged, and Kiri was off once again.  He fished in his pocket and handed a set of keys to Denki.  Denki run ahead and began unlocking a door.  Seconds later, you were landing on your butt, having just been unceremoniously chucked through the doorway.

Kirishima stood blocking the doorway.  “I’m not going to let you leave until the two of you actually talk.  I’m not letting anyone in my pack ruin their lives because they can’t put on adult pants and have a proper conversation.  And for the record, y/n?  You’ve always been pack.  You always will be.  Now go talk to your damn omega!”

And with that, Kirishima slammed the door shut, leaving you sitting wide eyed and shellshocked on the floor of Bakugou’s apartment.

Hello everyone! I'm well aware that It's been a while. Very sorry for the delay. Lot of life stuff. I hope that this in small part makes up for it. Ended up having to radically change my plans for this bit, but I'm pretty sure I like how it came out. Enjoy!

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The ringing of another slap filled the air, blood splattering across part of the floor and the wall. Y/N's head snapped to the side as the back of the large man's hand was painted with droplets of their blood. A soft exhale left their lips as they closed their eyes, trying to stop the involuntary tears from wetting their cheeks. They didn't want him to have the satisfaction of seeing any kind of emotion from them since that’s exactly what he wanted. He then grabbed their chin roughly, forcing them to look up at him. A sick smile spread his lips as he looked over the damage he had done to their face. Bruises had already started forming on their cheeks, their skin had been split, and their blood was starting to oxidize where it landed ten minutes ago.

"Tell me what you know about Dean Winchester," he spat. Y/N turned their head, the man's breath reeking of cigarettes and spearmint gum. The man didn't let that go on for too long, though, keeping the grip on their neck tight. Y/N could feel their breath shortening, but they also knew the rules. He leaned in closer, close enough that Y/N could feel his hot breath fanning over their face and neck. They scrunched their nose slightly, looking right into his beady eyes. They wouldn’t back down, couldn’t back down now. They needed to protect Dean, no matter what. So, choosing not to answer with words, they instead chose to spit in his face. There was a moment of nothingness as he wiped it off of his cheek, but that was over almost as quickly as it started. He snarled, reaching his clenched hand back before slamming it down onto their face again, sending them flying backwards. They slid across the floor, the chair making the blow against the wall a bit more bearable. “You’ll talk eventually, bitch," he growled, grabbing them by the hair and yanking them up. They winced, gripping the arms of the metal seat as he lifted them up. 

"Is that all you got, big boy? Kind of a shitty hand you got there." They spit out a chipped tooth covered in blood, giving him a smile. Before they could continue, the large man punched them again, this time with enough force to knock the chair they were chained and handcuffed to over. Y/N wasn't sure, but they could have sworn that they could feel a pool of blood forming around their skull, almost like a halo. But they couldn't imagine a halo anywhere near them. The man kicked them in the ribs, then pulled them back up by a tight grip on their neck, lifting them back up. 

"Who is this Dean Winchester you keep bringing up? I have no idea who that is, dude. You have the wrong person." They shrugged, shining another bloody smile. They were met with a hard slap, then grunting as the man dragged the metal chair across the cement, a piercing scraping sound ringing throughout the small room. Y/N was put in front of what seemed to be a mirror until the other man flipped a switch, revealing Dean in another room. He was also tied up, even more than Y/N was, and he was beaten and bruised even worse. Y/N's eyes widened, but they immediately brought it back, knowing that they had to keep their cool. 

"Well, he seems to know you, Y/N." The man turned a knob that was next to the mirror, Dean's voice coming through a speaker. 

"Y/N isn't dead. I know them, they're stronger than I am, it would take more than a few assholes like you to kill them." Dean struggled against the ties that wrapped around him, lifting a chuckle from one of the men's throats. He reached into his pocket, showing Dean a polaroid picture of Y/N, covered in blood and passed out. It was definitely convincing, and Y/N figured they did it when they were knocked out earlier. But they knew Dean was smart, they knew he wouldn't fall for it. 

Or so they thought. Dean's eyes filled with tears as he tried to jump out of his restraints, starting to shout and scream. Y/N's heart dropped as his screams sounded so genuine, so blood curdling. The guys that were in the room with Dean attacked him, getting him on his back, kicking him wherever they could. Y/N watched in horror, wanting so badly to run in and tell him to relax. He was too emotional. They didn't know why their death would get to him so much, but nonetheless, they silently prayed that he would keep his mouth shut.

After what seemed like an eternity, Dean finally stopped screaming enough to where they could continue to talk to him. They started pressing him to answer questions about the operations and the crew. Y/N quietly begged him to stay quiet, but he looked so defeated. He looked up at the men with a broken face, his eyes bloodshot and glossed over. He opened his mouth, and information about everything started coming out. Y/N couldn't stop themselves, it was like instinct when they shouted and put all of their might into getting up and slamming their body against the mirror, making a huge crack right in the middle. The last thing they remember was feeling hands all over them, then nothing. They hoped it was enough to save both of them, or at least just Dean.

Once Y/N gained their consciousness back, they immediately went into a panic as they remembered what had happened just before they were knocked out. They had one thing on their mind, and one thing only. Saving Dean. They had been left on the cold floor, still tied up to the chair they had been in before. They started struggling against the ropes, grimacing as they could feel their skin beginning to burn from the friction, but they didn’t care. All they cared about was saving him. Eventually, they got the ties mostly undone, and they used whatever strength they had at that point to break them apart. They slowly got up, going over to the window they had broken before to try and get Dean’s attention. They looked through the small hole they had broken into it, hoping to see any trace of Dean. When they didn’t, they cursed softly, going over to the steel door that kept them locked in. They kneeled down, going into their pocket that they kept their lockpicks in. Empty. Those guys must have cleared them of anything they had when they were knocked out. They groaned, hitting the wall next to them in frustration. 

An idea popped into their head, and it led them back over to the two way mirror. They looked through once again and saw that the door in the other room was cracked, so now they needed to find a way to get in there. They looked around, eyes falling on the chair they had just broken free from. They picked it up, trying their best to swing it as hard as they could to break the mirror even more. The first wing wasn't enough, and they felt the vibrations sting throughout their body. They winced, but picked the chair up once more to try again. The second hit made a few more cracks, and that was more than enough to give them the motivation they needed to try one more time. They swung it again, successfully shattering the mirror. They covered their eyes, a few pieces of glass hitting their face and body. They cried out softly, then crawled through the frame to get to the other room.

They had no idea where to even start looking. They limped to the door, their hand pressing on their side to try and lessen the pain they suddenly felt. They looked down, finally noticing the large piece of glass that had pierced through their rib. They pulled it out, keeping it gripped in their hand as they slowly made their way out of the dingy, stale room. They followed their gut telling them to go right, hoping they would see any type of proof that Dean was okay. The small lights that lined the ceiling blinked as they made their way into unknown territory, palm still gripping the piece of glass. Their vision started to fade slightly, but they pushed through nonetheless. They eventually saw a line of bright light through a door, and they almost prayed that Dean was in there.

When they pushed the door open, they were met with the gazes of five men, three of them they recognized from before. They all got their guns out, and Y/N cursed, getting ready for the fight of their life. They used all the training that they had gotten up to this point, throwing the glass as hard as they could at one of the armed men, the large sliver landing right in the middle of his neck. They quickly jumped over, somehow missing most of the bullets that started raining towards them as they reached for the now dead man’s gun. When they got it into their hands, they rolled for cover, their back pressing against the cold metal of a desk that was in there. The gunshots stopped, leaving a deafening silence in their wake. Y/N took a deep breath, looking for another way out before getting back up and firing four shots, bullseyeing each guard that was in the room. When their bodies dropped, Y/N looked around, finding another door. They had no idea whether it would be worth going in there until they heard a thump. Their heart jumped, thinking that maybe, with some sort of luck, Dean was in there. They did their best to walk over, their left leg bleeding out from one of the bullets that caught them. Once they got to the door, they leaned against it, pressing their ear flush to the steel.

“Dean?” They called out, cocking the gun just in case it wasn’t him. They waited for a response, getting another soft thump in return. “Screw it,” they whispered, pushing the door open. They snuck inside, closing the door behind them as softly as they could, in case there were more guys ready to fire. What they saw almost made them collapse right there, both relief and the most fear they had ever felt in their entire life. Dean lay on the ground, blood covering his face and body. He looked awful, beaten up more than they had ever seen, and they’ve fought some strong monsters in their day. They dropped their gun, going over to him. They fell onto their knees, cupping his bloody face softly, pressing their forehead to his. “Oh god, please don’t be dead. Dean?” They cried out in a whisper, kissing his cheek. Tears started stinging their eyes as he didn’t respond, and their worst nightmare started to unfold right before their eyes. They couldn’t hold back the sobs they choked, laying their head on his chest.

Silence surrounded them, Y/N’s sobs being the only thing that was heard in the small room. They couldn't believe it. Dean Winchester, the strongest person they had ever met, their hero, their mentor, their best friend, was gone. They let it all out, not caring if they were heard by anyone else. Their cries soon turned into wails as the reality set in. There was so much they had to say, so much they kept to themselves in fear of ruining their friendship. All of their feelings, now wasted as he lay dead beneath them. They should have told him how they felt, no matter what. They loved him, they loved him more than they had ever loved anybody else. He was their everything, and he died never knowing the truth about it all.

“Y/N…” Dean choked, his chest suddenly rising as he managed to gasp a breath. Y/N’s head shot up, tearfully looking at him with hope. When they saw his eyes open, they got off of him, pressing multiple kisses on his face in different places. He pulled them close, his heart aching at the sound of their cries. He had heard their cries, and it had broken his heart completely. He never knew they felt so strongly for him. He groaned, his body pulsing with pain as they hugged. Kye pulled away, wiping all the tears from their bloody face. 

“Come on, we have to get out of here.” Y/N stood shakily, using all of their strength to pick him up. He leaned on them, trying to use any strength he had left to walk. Y/N did their best to get them both the hell out of there, but their leg was useless and their side was killing them. They did their best to remember how to get out of there, and they hoped they didn’t run into any more men. After what felt like forever roaming through the dark, damp tunnels, they finally saw the ladder illuminated by the moonlight. They almost cried at the sight of it. They looked over at a bloody Dean, wondering how the hell they were gonna get him up to the surface so they could go back home. “Alright Dean, I need you to get up these steps, okay?” Dean nodded groggily, lazily throwing his hand onto the first prong. Y/N pushed him up with their remaining energy, eventually getting them both up.

The car ride there was long. Y/N drove all the way there, fighting every urge they had to fall asleep at the wheel. They didn’t know how much longer they could last, so they pulled out their phone and dialed Sam’s number. They let him know they would be pulling in and they would need help, maybe angelic help. Sam panicked, telling everyone to stand by as he raced into the bunker’s garage, praying for Cas to come down here immediately, even before he saw the damage. He knew if Y/N was asking for help, it was serious. 

Kye fell out of the car as soon as they opened the door, landing on the ground harshly. They hissed as a searing pain burned through their entire body. Am ran over to them, but they pushed him off, telling him to grab Dean first. They needed him to be okay, they would give their life if it meant he would be. Sam grimaced, reluctantly leaving them to go over to the passenger side to pick up his brother, talking to him as he all but dragged Dean into the bunker. Cas appeared, looking at Dean with worry. He hadn’t seen him this bad since the fight with Lucifer. He kneeled next to him, placing a finger on Dean’s forehead. In a matter of milliseconds, Dean was healed, now just covered in old blood. Dean’s eyes finally opened, and he looked around for Y/N. He asked where they were, and both Sam and Cas looked at each other, realizing that the emergency wasn’t over.

The three men ran into the garage, finding Y/N in the same position they left them. They lay on the floor, no longer moving as a pool of blood was forming around them. Dean fell to his knees, placing their head in his lap as tears stung behind his eyes. He looked up at Cas, begging him with no words to help them. Cas sank to his knees next to the pair, Dean finally allowing his tears to fall. Cas placed his fingers onto their forehead as well, but nothing seemed to happen. Dean looked up at him, disbelief covering his face. They couldn’t be dead, not because of him. Dean placed the blame on himself immediately, choking back sobs as he held their lifeless head in his lap. 

There was so much he never said, so much he should have. He loved them. He was finally able to admit it to himself, and it was too late to tell them. That was all he wanted, he wanted to look them in their striking E/C eyes, hold them close, and tell them he loved them. Maybe they wouldn’t have had the white picket fence, a dog, or maybe even kids, but they would have each other, and their love for each other. All of that was ripped away in a matter of a few hours. He cried, almost wailed at the thought of them being gone. His heart ached, his skin flushed, and his mind was unclear as he cried above their body. Sam placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder, tears wetting his eyes as he watched the scene unfold. 

After a few minutes of Dean’s grief, he suddenly stopped, his face monotone. He picked Y/N up, taking them to his room so he could place them gently on his bed. He didn’t care about the mess, he just wanted them to be comfortable when they woke up, and they will wake up. He swore on his life that he will bring them back and make it alright. He grabbed his keys, marching towards the Impala. Sam saw him and stopped him, grabbing his shoulder once more. 

“No way Dean. I know that look. Y/N wouldn't want you to do something stupid to bring them back. Your head is clouded, you have to stop and think about this.” Dean gave his younger brother a stern look, shaking his head as he pushed Sam’s hand off of him.

You stood there frozen as the elevator reached the penthouse, the doors opened but you couldn’t move.  You couldn’t follow the man you love into your shared home knowing that he’s been lying to you.   The only thing you asked for when this relationship started was his honesty, and apparently even that was too much to ask the great Tony Stark.  

The thought made you sick and you were sure the air around you was disappearing.  “FRIDAY, lobby please” you whispered as you tried to hold yourself together. 

He turned to look at you finally with regret or guilt in his eyes, you couldn’t tell and you really didn’t care right now. You needed to escape all of this, but what hurt the worst than anything was his silence.  He stared at you as the elevator doors closed, no attempt to stop you, no protest, no begging.  Only silence. 

Walking down the streets of Manhattan should have been loud, but it was if you were underwater.  Everything was a blur, you didn’t know where you were headed but you needed to keep moving.  

You were startled when a hand fell on your shoulder, turning around hoping he had finally come to rescue you from this nightmare, only to realize he couldn’t even do that himself.  “Let me drive you” Happy stated as he gestured to his car a few yards back, he apparently had been honking and calling your name, but you didn’t respond.  

You shook your head and tried to continue but he stepped in front of you and wrapped you in a hug.  That's when you lost it, the tears started and they weren’t stopping anytime soon.  He pulled you in tighter and couldn’t fight back, you didn’t have the energy.   

As you approached the car, you looked up at him “did you know? Does everyone know?”  “I don’t know what happened or why you left, all I know is that I was told to make sure you are safe” he responded with a small smile and a gentle rub of your back.   

He opened the back door and you shook your head, “I can’t sit back there.  I’ll just grab a cab once I figure out where I’m going” you started to back away and thank Happy for his concern, but he wouldn’t let you.   

He opened the front passenger door and gestured for you to get in “let’s figure out where you need to go once we are in the car.”  Nodding you got in and buckled up, staring out the window and trying to figure out how things had gone so terribly wrong.  

Tony Fucking Stark  that’s what went wrong!   Six months of turning down his advances, declining dinner invitations, trying to keep things professional, knowing his playboy ways couldn’t possibly just disappear.  But no, you had to give in, finally believe his charming smile and kind compliments and you let him in.   

You let him worm his way into your heart, and you thought this is it! This is what I want, who I love!  Only to realize you were right all along, he would never change, not for someone like you.  Why would he?  He’s the great Tony Stark, he could do whatever he wanted, have whoever he wanted.  

And just like that your sadness turned into anger!  You were angry at him for the betrayal, angry at yourself for falling for him, angry at the waitress for being so young and beautiful, angry at Happy for coming to your rescue because that’s what Tony paid him to do.  

“Can you pull over please?  I need to grab some things from the store before we get to the hotel” you ask as you near the intersection.  “I’ll be a minute” you state as you get out of the car and rush into the convenience store.  

Heading for the back grabbing the largest bottle of vodka you could find, hoping it would last the weekend.  You looked around at snacks and decided you could just order room service or take out once you got to the hotel.  Reaching the cash register you paid for the liquor and headed out to the car, Happy standing there waiting for you with a small smile.  

“I appreciate the ride, but I’m gonna walk the rest of the way.  I know you mean well, but I also know you are loyal to him to a fault and I’d rather not have him know where I am right now, I need some space” you tell him as you try your best to keep it together.  You can tell he’s debating if you should fight you on this but relents “ok, but if you need anything, I mean anything, I will come no matter what” he hugs you before getting back in the car and leaving you behind.  

It was after three in the morning when your phone vibrated on the nightstand. The sound of it woke you from your usual light sleep; with a groan, you reached to answer it. 

“Better have a good reason for calling, Josh Dun.”

A whoosh of air gave away the sigh on the other end, and Josh apologized for waking you up. “Hey. It’s Tyler again. Can we come there?”

You rubbed your eyes with your free hand, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. I’ll unlock the front door.”

“Thanks.”

You closed your eyes for just a second, holding on to the last bit of sleep before you switched on the lamp next to your bed. You found a hair tie and piled your hair back away from your face, not really caring how it looked. You were already in a tank and sweats, but you threw a hoodie on, just for good measure. 

Coffee was going, you had clean towels and a couple of warm washcloths in the bathroom, along with a glass of room temperature water. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time in the last few weeks that Josh had called in the wee hours and asked to bring Tyler to your place. He couldn’t very well take him home, anyway. 

“Why are you covered in neon body paint?” you asked, opening the front door so Josh could help Tyler inside the house. 

Josh shot you a look. “Best not ask.”

With a nod, you followed him into the bathroom where Tyler collapsed to his knees in front of the toilet. Josh ran a hand through his hair; you put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Go try to rest,” you encouraged. “I’ve got this.”

Josh didn’t argue. “You’ll wake me if you need anything?”

“Of course.” Before he was too far gone, you asked, “What brought it on tonight?”

“I don’t even know anymore, Y/N. He’s just … I don’t know.” 

You nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

Josh made to leave, but turned again at the door, picking at a place where the wood had splintered on the doorframe. “You know, I know when he’s had enough. He always tells me he needs to see you. That he’s ready to come here. I think you’re a safe place for him.”

At the stool, Tyler began retching into the bowl. You put out of your mind what Josh had said for the time being, and laid one of the washcloths over the back of Tyler’s neck. When there was a pause, you made him drink some water. He sipped at the contents of the glass, then leaned back against the tub. 

“I’m sorry I keep doing this to you,” he said, his voice scratchy from the burn of the liquor coming back up on him. 

You took a seat against the wall, not far from him. “I don’t care that you’re doing it to me, Ty. But, I wish I knew why you’re doing this to yourself.”

His head leaned back against the ceramic ledge of the tub. “You ever felt like the world’s just going to swallow you up, Y/N/N? The world and the things it wants from you and the things you feel and the demons you can’t chase away. Felt like I needed to float away.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” you answered quietly, afraid that if you spoke any louder, the lump in your throat would turn to tears. “But you can’t float away from all of that in a sea of alcohol. You just … tell me what to do to make this better for you.”

Tyler’s head lifted from the edge of the tub, and his tired, bloodshot eyes looked at you. He stared at you for a moment, licked his lips, and set his elbows on his knees. 

“You do make this better for me.” He rubbed a hand over his face and reached for the glass of water, chugging it down. 

“Not so fast. You’ll make yourself sick again.”

Tyler shook his head. “No. I think I’m done being sick for tonight. I’m tired.”

“Okay,” you said, standing to dust off the seat of your pants. “C’mon. Bed.”

He took your hand, holding tight to it even after he was standing and steady. Though you had done it before, using the other washcloth to wipe his face down before letting him sleep seemed a much more intimate thing tonight. 

He kicked his shoes off, and you rid yourself of your hoodie. Tyler crawled under the covers, curled around a pillow, and reached out for you. You sat on the edge of the mattress, trying to decide how things had changed so quickly — and maybe they wouldn’t even be the same in the morning. 

You were scrolling through Netflix when you heard a familiar knock on your door.  You sighed and put the blanket you just finished sewing aside and got up.  When you opened the door, you saw her standing outside with a grin on her face. “Hola amiga, what’s happening?”  She pulled you in for a hug and you tried pushing away, but her grip only got tighter.  “I do this because I care, Y/N.”  You snorted and wrapped your arms around her.  She caught your eye with a wink and the two of you chuckled.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you until next week.”  The two of you finally pulled apart, and she closed the door behind her.  

“Yeah, about that…”  She led you into your living room and began telling you about what happened recently.  You were trying to keep up - your former boss was some kind of creature, a Leviathan, Charlie had called it.  She told you about Sam and Dean, and if you were there, you would’ve fell head over heels for the taller one with long hair.  “Dean was pretty cool.  He coached me on how to flirt with this security guard, you should’ve seen it!”

“I bet it was something.”  You mumbled to yourself as you picked up the controller and clicked on Galavant.  

“Hey, is it cool if I sleep over tonight?”  She smiled as she took a seat next to you on the couch.  

“Yeah, that's fine.”  Charlie staying over was nothing new but something felt off.  The two of you laughed and carried on for the rest of the night until you passed out on the couch.  

It was your alarm that woke you up the next morning.  You groped around in the darkness to dismiss it but when you picked up your phone, a piece of paper fell to the floor.  You picked it and as you unfolded it,  you saw that it was a letter from Charlie.

I guess if you're reading this, you finally woke up.  I'm sorry that you woke up alone but I thought this was for the best.  I should've told you last night but I didn't want our last night together to be a downer.  You're someone I will definitely miss, but after everything I went through recently, I had to cut my losses and leave.   I wish things were different… I really do, but it's better this way.  Take care of yourself, okay?  Love, Charlie.

You took a deep breath but the tears wouldn't stop falling.  You fumbled your way into your bedroom, and gathered up your clothes for the day.  There was nothing you could do about Charlie leaving, but you had to get your mind off it.  You took a shower, and when you glanced at yourself in the mirror, it didn't surprise you that your eyes were bloodshot and puffy.  You got dressed and made your way back into the living room.

You still had a couple hours before you had to be at work, so you made breakfast, did your dishes and a load of laundry.  As you waited, you decided to clean.  You were in the process of putting your couch back together when you realized what blanket was used.  

It was supposed to be a gift for Charlie - it was a red and green flannel blanket.  The colors always reminded you of her and it was until you started to fold it that you realized, it smelled exactly like Charlie.

We’ve been doing a lot of hunts recently… I think it might be Dean’s way of keeping me distracted. Especially since Christmas and your one year is approaching. It’s definitely been a hard year without you and I truly miss you.

I love you dearly and I’m still trying to find a place in my mind where I can forgive myself, but I just can’t. I know if you were here you’d try and help me through this all, but I know you’re in a better place. I know you and our son or daughter are up in heaven right now getting to live the happiest moments you could ever dream of.

I bet you’re preparing to celebrate Christmas with “me.” You’re probably decorating the tree with Christmas lights and stringing them all throughout the bunker as well.

I still remember the moment that I first fell in love with you. We had been dating for awhile, and even with our hunter lives you still craved the normal things whether it be holidays, mini vacations, or even just the ability to sleep in and take a day to do laundry or something. We were on a hunt in Colorado- a wendigo case to be exact.

It was December and the city was holding a light parade, and had a decorated tree in the square. You begged and begged us to see it. However, the answer was always the case had to come first. But deep down, Dean was going to cave and I was too so Dean made you a deal. The case was to be finished first then we could all go see the lights. The look of disappointment on your face when you realized we missed that parade…. We felt horrible, but then your eyes lit up. You dragged us out of the car and to the square to see the tree. The entire place was decked out in lights and decor. The tree was enormous- larger than me which you had to point out. You ran towards the tree, almost tripping over your own shoes in the process. I reluctantly followed, wanting to make sure you’d stay safe. We stood by that tree looking up at it, taking in all the ornaments and decorations on it.

I fell in love with the way your eyes sparkled and reflected the multi-colored lights. You practically glowed in the December snow; outshining the tree in my eyes. Your smile could melt away all snow and turn it into spring.

Dean and I were never that big into Christmas but you completely changed that for me. So when the next year rolled around, I was the one to drag you out of bed. It was early in the morning and you were freezing, begging for us to stay in bed longer. I know you just wanted to stay close to me and curl up in my arms. My excitement and energy had you curious and freaked out. You kept checking my face to see if I was sick, but it all made sense later on.

I bought us coffee and breakfast before we hit the local store to by all sorts of lights. We ended up with more than just lights. You bought a small tree, ornaments, and even a wreath. When we returned to the bunker we started on decorating. All sorts of colored and white lights were placed all around the bunker and especially in our room. You put me on light duty so I could hang them in places you couldn’t reach. While I did that you were on tree duty and placing the wreath up in the library.

Dean came shuffling in, rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand and a coffee in the other. He was puzzled to say the least… He grumbled out questions as to why we were doing this, but he then realized it wasn’t just you. Dean had gave us a tired, grumpy smile and helped you with the tree. He even joked that we could shrink Cas down and make him the tree topper. It was indubitably one that would have Cas confused.

I even remember when it was way into the months April when spring was here. The lights were still up throughout the bunker, but you always liked to turn them on some nights. It was one of those nights in particular. Your sleep patterns were off, your emotions haywire, and there were times that I thought you were catching a bug. But you came into our room and I saw a look in your eyes that I had never seen.

You could face countless monsters and possibilities of certain death, and you would still hold your ground even if you were scared. In that moment you were terrified and practically shrunk where you stood. I could’ve sworn I seen you slightly shaking. Your fingers were pulling and picking that the hem of your shirt.

It was a nervous habit that I had hardly ever seen. The only other time before this moment was when you confessed your feelings to me with a fear that I wouldn’t reciprocate them.

But when your mouth opened your voice shook and tears formed in your eyes. I got off the bed, setting my book aside not caring that I hadn’t marked the page as I made my way towards you. I set my hands gently on your shoulders hoping to anchor you and possibly catch you if you decided to fall to your knees. I could feel the slight tremble in your body as you looked up to me with tears finally rolling down your face.

You were scared to tell me you were pregnant…..

You knew what your pregnancy would bring. You would no longer be able to hunt and travel with us. We talked all night after you told me. We curled up in bed as you laid your head on my chest, crying and mumbling any and every possibility. I knew what they were- but you were laying them out and they were becoming far too real way too quickly. I had to slow you down and rub your back, kissing your head gently to calm you.

I wasn’t ready.

And neither were you.

We went to bed early in the morning and slept on the idea. When we woke, we didn’t utter a word to each other as we stewed in our thoughts over it. With one look we both knew.

We weren’t backing out of this.

I had worried I was going to be a horrible father and mess up. I feared that I would be the reason you would-

Those two months flew by in the blink of an eye.

You were bunker bound while Dean and I went on hunts. I often stayed up reading what I could about the pregnancy and parenting, but each time Dean was the one to give better advice than the books. After all, Dean did raise me.

Dean and I would try to find quick and easy hunts that way we wouldn’t be away for too long.

But of course, the pregnancy and the bunker made you antsy.

Then our biggest fear became a reality.

You left and word was out in the world of what was to come.

A shapeshifter had found out about your pregnancy and they hated Dean and I. In the past we had killed this shifter’s child but they had gotten away.

You were out in town buying a few things and the shifter saw you.

God, Baby I wish I was there… I was--

My hands started shaking as I felt my vision blurring. Tears rolled down my nose and dropped onto the paper.

I was supposed to protect you and keep you safe. It was my job to do that for you and our baby…. I know you probably could’ve protected yourself and I’m sure you put up a fight, but keeping you safe was something I told myself I’d do from the moment you became mine. I would take a bullet for you and take any injury to come your way if it meant you could walk away unharmed. I would do anything no matter the cost if it meant you got to keep on living and breathing.  

I am so sorry I let you down. I’m sorry I let myself down and I can and never will forgive myself--

“Sammy….” Dean’s voice was gentle as he walked in.

I pushed myself away and I felt his hand fall on my shoulder as the tears began to pour. Had I continued writing the paper would’ve been soaked.

“Why don’t we go put up some lights around the bunker? Maybe drink some eggnog and watch a movie?”

I looked up at my brother, nodding slightly. “I just- I miss her so much Dean….”

“I know,” he said rubbing my back. “We should go see her.”