Hello, Everybody. This is my first SPN story in English and I'm a little nervous about it. So please, review, even if it's bad, I won't mind some critical notes, really. Two words enough, "loved it/hated it". Thank You :)

Summary: Taylor and Dean know each other since they were kids. They both lost much along the way but Taylor deals with her problems harder than Dean. After the death of Taylor's sister, Dean finds the girl in a terrible shape. Both of them realize, there is more between them than they admitted before but maybe it's too late...

video: bamvidvault dot ning dot com/video/gossip-girl-supernatural

ps.: If you wanna get know more about Taylor, say it in the feedbacks, I have some other one-shot with this pairing.

betareader: Fleur LB

IT HURTS TO BE LOVED

I was trying to set up my sister's funeral when my phone rang.

"Hallo?"

"Hey, it's me. We've got some business near you so you can count on a visit," said the familiar deep voice.

"I'm not in New York. Jenna died. I came home for the funeral and to take care of the house."

"I'm sorry…" he sighed, struggling to find the words. "Are you alright?"

"Sure. We can meet some other time," I answered.

"Okay."

A month later I was still in Lawrence because I couldn't get rid off the house. I was sitting on the couch with a bottle of whiskey in my hands. I pulled back the curtains so there was half dimness in the house. There were empty bottles on the floor around me. I wore an old shabby Led Zeppelin shirt. I stared bored at the tv, not really knowing what I was watching. I heard the door opening and the heavy steps across the house.

"Hey, look at that. The famous Winchester brothers. What a pleasure. Who can I say thanks for the honor of your visiting?" I screamed with fake happiness when I saw Dean and Sam.

"Wait, wait, wait. Don't tell me. I know," I said as I stood up. "There's a demon in me and you're going to exorcise it. No, not that," I shook my head as I tried to think about other options.

"Got it! I died and you're ghostbusters. There's no other way you would be here, right? Guys, really, just don't get hard on me. No guns, 'kay? Just tell me and I'll start to look for the huge white light. Oh, too bad, there's no light except maybe the fire of hell," I said with pretend sadness on my face.

"You aren't dead, Taylor," Sam shook his head, looking concerned at me.

"Do you really have to bring bad news all the time, Sammy boy? You're such a party crasher," I rolled my eyes. "Dean, honey, did you miss me?" I asked Dean, stepping close to him so I could kiss those delicious lips of him.

"You smell," he turned his head away, disgusted.

"I missed you, too," I snorted, glaring at him, taking a step back.

"Give me the bottle," Dean commanded, reaching for the bottle in my hand.

"No, that's mine. Buy yourself one if you want," I said, holding it further from him.

"Taylor…" Sam sighed, worriedly.

"Don't look at me like that, Sam. I don't need your pity," I glared at him.

"And you," I pointed angrily at Dean. "Don't pretend you care about me, 'cause you are don't and you know it. I'm not dead, I'm not a demon so you've got nothing to do with me," I said, taking a huge sip of the bottle.

"That's enough. Give me that," Dean reached for the whiskey.

"No," I said, taking another sip but Dean knocked the bottle out of my hand.

"Are you insane?" I yelled at him. "You could have knocked my teeth out, you bastard."

The room started to spin around with me. Probably I fainted. The last thing I remember was that two strong arms caught me as I fell.

I woke in the bed of my old room. I felt awful. My head hurt pretty badly and I still felt dizzy. I managed to go to the bathroom, brush my teeth and wash my face then I went downstairs. It seemed to be midday because the sun brightened the whole house. The strong light hurt my eyes so when I saw my sunglasses on the shelf, I put them on and started to the kitchen.

Dean stood leaning against the cabinet, a mug in his hands. Probably he heard I was awake.

"Coffee," he held out the mug for me.

"Thank you," I smiled at him sweetly, giving him a light kiss as I took the mug.

"Are you always so thankful for caffeine?"

"Only when the man who gives it is handsome enough and if it's well made," I grinned at Dean, giving him another kiss and sat down.

Thankfully the sun didn't brighten the kitchen so I took off my sunglasses. Dean just stood there, watching every move I made.

"How long was I out?" I asked, sipping my coffee, pulling my knees up to my chest.

"Two days," he informed me.

"That's a record," I said. "You didn't say you would come," I said after a few moments of tense silence.

"Because we wouldn't. Lisa called me frantic. She was scared to death," Dean groaned.

"Lisa overdramatize everything," I shrugged, rolling my eyes.

"You totally lost it when we arrived. Do you wanna tell me why did you decide to drink yourself to death?"

"Nop," I looked up from my mug to the living room. Sam sat there and as much as I could tell he tried hard to become invisible.

"Hi, Sammy," I waved to him, smiling.

"Hi, Taylor," he shifted uncomfortable, glancing at me.

"What? I'm okay. If you want to you can take all the booze or pour it out or do whatever. Yes, I went a little too far and then what? It won't happen again. I have to deal with my hungover, story over, I've been punished. That's it."

Neither of them answered. Sam kept glancing at me worriedly and Dean watched me like he was some kind of freakin' inquisitor from the Middle Ages.

"Fine. It was great to see you. Call me when you'll be in New York."

I jumped up and started toward my room. As I went upstairs I didn't only hear the door being shut, I also felt it, thinking my head would explode because of the loud noise.

I laid on my bed, staring at the used to be white now kind of yellow ceiling above me. After a few moments I heard a light knock on the door.

"I told ya, I don't wanna talk about it, Dean," I groaned, closing my eyes.

When I didn't get an answer I opened my eyes and saw Sam standing in the door.

"Dean went to walk," he said.

"You mean I pissed him off enough to go as far from me as possible? I've got great talent for that. Come in, I don't bite… usually," I smiled at him, sitting up, so he could sat next to me.

"I'm sorry… You know me, I've got issues. I don't always deal with things the right way," I sighed.

"Taylor… What's going on between you and Dean?" Sam asked, studying me.

"What do you mean?" I looked at him dumbly. I thought he was old enough to know what was going on between two adults.

"I don't know… You're just different from other girls…" I could see he was embarrassed talking about his brother's women business with me.

"Sam, it's okay. I know Dean's got other women. I'm not that naive enough to think we meet once or twice in a year and he's got none else. And come on, it isn't like I'm a nun," I patted him on the shoulder cheerfully.

"But I meant you're different from the others. I don't exactly know what it is with you and Dean but it's strange," Sam explained and I could tell he tried hard to figure out what was going on between his brother and me.

"Stop being ridiculous, Sam. You know what's going on. There's no more in it," I said, trying to convince him we were only friends with benefits.

"You didn't see him, Taylor. When he wasn't checking if you were still breathing, he did the rooms. Do you know when he does that? When he's so angry or worried that he has to do something to keep him preoccupied. You scared the crap out of him," Sam explained, heated.

"Well, he probably didn't want me to die when he's here," I shrugged.

"He was very worried. You could barely stand up. He was scared to leave you alone."

"It wasn't that bad, it's been worse," I rolled my eyes. Sam talked about it like it was such a big deal when it absolutely wasn't. It had happened before and I was still there.

"You could barely speak. You drank so much, you passed out."

"At least now I know what happened," I answered like it was nothing. And honestly, it was. I was still alive so there wasn't anything to worry about.

"I don't understand it," Sam sighed. "I mean every time we're around New York Dean looks for excuses so we can go to you and you let us in without complaining. No questions about where we were, what we've done or where we will go. How is that you never ask anything, or that you don't mind that Dean…"

"You don't get it because you aren't like us," I interrupted him. "Look, Dean and I… we are very similar to each other. We aren't saints. We don't want restrictions. He says nothing, I ask nothing. That's the way we are. He's got his life and I've got mine. We don't interrupt each other's business and it's fine this way," I tried to explain to him.

"I don't think that's so easy," he shook his head. "He keeps your photo in his pocket. And he buys you gifts every time we visit you."

"Gifts?" I asked, bursting into laughing. "A bar of chocolate or an ice cream doesn't really count as a gift, Sammy."

"Yes, it counts. Especially, if it's from Dean and he knows what your favorite is. He doesn't even know what my fave is but he went to seven shop just to find you a chewing gum flavored ice cream. He read your books, all of your poems and not only once. He can even quote it."

"I hate to break it to you but I think you read too much Jane Austen," I smiled at him.

"No. I've seen my brother with tons of women but you're not like any of them," he stated.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Sammy. We are who we are. Dean obviously doesn't want anything serious and honestly, I don't need another crazy relationship," I sighed. "I like Dean. We got along pretty well since we were kids. There's no need for complications. You can see my life sucks enough without one more thing to worry about."

"I think he loves you," Sam stated after a few moments of silence.

"God help him if he does," I said, feeling my stomach clench. "It wouldn't do any good for him."

"Why?" Sam asked surprised.

"Because I don't. I can't. We can't. It can't happen," I jumped off the bed and rushed out of the house. I ran without aim. I just wanted to run away somewhere, anywhere. I'm a coward, also a liar. Then what?

It was dark when I went back. There wasn't any light in the house and I couldn't see the car, which meant they probably took off. I opened the door and stepped in the house. I didn't turn on the lights. I loved the dark and the moon gave enough light to see.

As I hung my keys to the cupboard next to the door I heard the floor creaking behind me. I breathed the smell I would recognize anywhere: leather, cheap soap, gunpowder and something else I couldn't name, something pure Dean. He stood behind me.

I didn't want to look at him. I knew if I did, I couldn't say no to him. Every time I looked into those broken green eyes I felt my heart break, too. Dean Winchester had a strong hold on me, which I couldn't fight no matter how hard I tried.

I couldn't take it anymore so I turned to face him. I wanted to tell him so much but instead of that I glanced away and went to the kitchen. I turned the lights on and leaned against the sink. Dean followed me and he stopped, leaning against the wall. He didn't say a word, just looked at me like he could see my soul.

"When do you leave?" I broke the silence.

"Today."

I nodded, somehow I suspected.

"Taylor…" Dean started but I interrupted him.

"No," – I said, raising my hands. "Whatever you want to say, just leave it, okay?"

He stepped closer to me, close enough so I could feel the warm of his body when I closed my eyes. My hands rested on his chest, trying to keep him as far as possible.

"What do you do with yourself?" he asked softly almost as a whisper.

"You should go," I said, turning my head away so I didn't have to look at him.

"No," he stated, firmly.

"Dean, I said go" I groaned, frustrated. Why can't he just let it go and leave me alone?

"No. I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on with you?! Why the hell did I save you twice if you kill yourself now?"

"Fuck you," I yelled at him.

I pushed him away but he grabbed my arms. I hit him, trying to escape from his hold but he was too strong. His fingers gripped my arms so hard it hurt.

"No," he said in a low husky voice as he buried his face into my hair. I could feel his hot breath on my neck, I could hear the anger, the frustration, the confusion in his voice, perfectly mirroring my own feelings.

"Let me go, you're hurting me," I said.

"I'm sorry," Dean loosened his grip a little but didn't let go of me. I could see how much it hurt him that he caused me pain. Dean Winchester would never hurt a woman and now he struggled because he hurt me. That's what I do with people, make them suffering. That's the thing I got talent for. "Taylor, I…"

"Don't," I cut him off as I finally pushed him away. "Don't you dare tell me you care about me. Sam thinks you do. He thinks you love me," Dean didn't answer. I started toward the living room. My instinct for escape resurrected again.

"I can't… You can't… You can't love me," I rambled, stumbling between the furnitures. I felt my eyes started burning from tears. Just not now, I can't lose it now, I told myself.

"Just don't… Don't love me, please," I said, turning away from Dean. No matter how much I tried to keep myself together, my voice was shaky and ridiculously small.

I heard his heavy footsteps on the floor. His arms were around my waist, and he turned me to face him.

"Taylor," he whispered my name almost begging.

"Don't… Please, just go, leave before this will become serious," I pleaded him.

"I think we're a little late with that," he said with a cocky smile on his face that I love so much.

"Don't say that," I shouted at him, pushing him away again. "Don't love me. I don't love you. Go! Now!"

"You're one of a kind, do you know that?" Dean sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Taylor…"

"What?" I interrupted him. "We talk, we fight, we fuck. This isn't love. This isn't even a relationship," I said in my best emotionless bitch tone, hoping he would just stop. "You live your life, I live mine. I didn't want this. You don't have to save me or whatever it is you try to do."

"Then what did you want? Just have some fun and that's it?" he yelled at me, throwing up his arms.

"Yes. Actually, yes," I saw his face close. I knew I hurt him and it killed me but I didn't want him to know. One of us had to stay reasonable.

"Dean," I started, sitting to the couch. "You're a great man. You do things you shouldn't do but not because you're a bad person. Listen, you've known me ever since we were kids. I'm poison. I'm dangerous," I sighed, seeing Dean raised an eyebrow, looking at me like I lost my mind.

"Don't look at me like that. You know it, too. Everybody who gets close to me regrets it sooner or later. Just think about it. Mom, Dad, Jenna, my first boyfriend, the second, all of my friends. I'm a magnet for disaster and I'm not only danger to myself, I'm also dangerous for the people I love.

"My Mom died when I was born. My dad hated me because of it so he decided to drink himself to death. My sister as you may know threw me out when I was 16 and blamed me for her fucked up life.

"Do you really wanna know why I drank in the last few weeks? Jenna eliminated everything that was me. I had to face the fact that my only family hated me so much she pretended I've never even existed. If Lisa hadn't called me, I wouldn't've even known that Jenna died.

"So don't tell me you will be the exception. Don't tell me you are going to change everything. Who do you think you are try to love me when my own family couldn't?" I glared at him.

"I don't know…" he sighed, stepping to me, pulling me up by my arms. "What are we doing?" He asked, leaning his forehead against mine.

He stared at me, waiting for answers, waiting for me to say the truth but I couldn't. So instead of that I kissed him knowing that would be our last kiss, feeling the salty taste on my lips as a single tear rolled down my cheek.

"We have to stop this," I said, quietly.

"I know… I know," Dean said, closing his eyes.

"You should go. Sam is waiting for you."

I bit my lips as I watched Dean leave. I got so much to say but I just stood there, watching him walk out of my life after he placed one last kiss on my forehead.

I sat on the bed in the motel room where I found Sammy after I got back from Hell somehow. He packed his bag and a book fell out of it. I wouldn't care at all if he didn't start acting weird.

"What's that?" I asked curiously.

"Dean, it's nothing," came the answer. Sammy was a horrible liar his whole life and that hadn't changed during the few months I spent in the ground.

"Is that your secret porn collection? You don't have to hide it from me, little bro," I grinned at him.

He glanced at me, rocking on his heels.

"I didn't want to tell you. Not now at least… You just came back," he rambled, glancing away.

"Come on, dude. What's going on? Like you said I just came back from Hell. What can you possibly say that's worse than that?"

"Dean, I'm sorry…" Sam sighed, holding out the book toward me.

"What are you sorry for?" I asked, taking the book from him.

It was thick, at least 600 pages, the cover was black. I opened it. The first page told: "It hurts to be loved-In memory of Taylor Heart". I felt my heart beating faster, my stomach clenched.

I turned the page. There was a dedication on the next page: "For D.W., my true love, the only man who could understand me. If I have to, I will follow you to the Hell to tell you, I lied. I always loved you and always will, in my life and death, forever."

"Her biography," Sam cleared his throat. "One week after you… I talked to her. Then after a few days later I saw it in the newspapers that she… Lisa said they found her in her apartment in New York. Her heart stopped. When they found her she was already…"

"Dead," I closed the book, throwing it on the bed.

"Dean, if you wanna talk about it…"

"There's nothing to talk about. She's dead. That's it. The end."