My body hurts

The hunt was hard. My whole body hurt. But maybe that's what he deserves.

I look down; the gray shirt can not hide the dark spots of blood starting to creep into the cloth, leaving indelible stains. The trousers, rigorously black, mask pretty well the abrasions except the a little of blood that is dripping down the ankle, going to the elastic of the short white socks.

Instead, what they can not hide the horrible body that lying under these.

When Dean died and became a demon, I decided that has no sense live without him. He had gone; MY Dean ware gone.

So I stopped eating. I was horribly greasy, huge. Maybe Dean was gone for that, too. Maybe he had always found me horrible and the fact of having become a demon, has just turn the right switch on.

The fall of that number, leading to an endless escalation and give you strength and unmatched control.

Sam that tell me to eat, he say that somehow we will have our Dean back, but I did not believe it.

45
43
40
38
Hospital.

The daily drips, to keep me alive when was the last thing I wanted.

What I really wanted to?

Close my eyes and never open them again. The pain would just disappear.

Then I remembered

"Hey Y/N. I have to tell you something ... " I remember I looking Dean in the eye. His big green eyes, able to enter in my soul, digging a hole and anchor in it so much strong that you can feel pain.

"Promise me you'll take care of Sam if I never ... I could not do it anymore."

"Dean ... what the hell are you saying?" I said, looking away.

"No ... hey, promise!" His eyes were so serious as to be scary, serious enough that my heart miss a beat.

"I promise."

So when he took my hand, in his warm, while mine were cold as death, bringing them to his lips and kissing like you do with a blood sister, I remembered the promise made to the man I loved. I could not leave Sam alone.
Who would look after him? Who would look after that Moose?

So I recovered, I fought with tooth and nail against myself and fells of give up.

But one thing has remained. Disgust for my body. I have not allowed Dean to touch me once, although some day has passed since we had our Dean, even though he slept for the most of the time.

I wanted to get close, lie down next to him, feel his arms around my waist and his breath on my neck, while the skin was filled with shivers and my stomach with butterflies.

Then I remembered the disgust that he would try to taste my flesh under his skin.

So, as in a ritual, I always got up, depositing a kiss on his forehead, filling my nostrils of his perfume and the hope that this, could leave out all the bad dreams.

Without even realizing the Chevrolet stops. I feel the blood come out of a wound along the left side. It burns like hell. T

he lights goes down, leaving the entrance to the bunker even darker. Sam gets out of the car.

He limps a bit, but I saved his ass a few times and now I have some nice bruises.

Dean imitates him, but of difference. It 'amazing how those two are different and equal. Two worlds that collide and combine at the same time, in a bond that will never die.

I open the door too, slowly, hoping that this will shut the pain up.

"You're all right? You look pretty battered. You lost enamel sweetness. "
"I'm fine, really, only a few scratches the surface."

I try to walk in a fairly normal so Dean can not be worried about my health, but he voluntarily placing behind me.

I move a few steps before my left leg give up under my weight.

I feel the strong arms of Dean on my waist and feel the soul burn much more than the wound.

"Luckily everything was okay huh?" Fluently he takes me in his arms, crosses the threshold of the bunker, and heads toward the bed, where I gently rests.

I feel my body hurt from head to toe, but I get up immediately, trying to send him out of the room.

"I put the stitches alone don't worry."

The only idea that can put the shirt up, his hands on my nude skin and touch it, makes me go into a dark panic.

"Come on, you can not do this alone. I just want to help. "

He approaches with one long step, trying to take a piece of cloth.

"No! Dean! Stop it! "
"Ok, now it's time to tell me what the hell happened during my ... '' Sabbatical period ''. If you want I can go to Sam and let me blow out from him! "
"No, it's just that ... and that's fine. I stopped eating. Until I finished to the hospital, almost dead.- He lowers his head, as if a part of him felt the weight of the guilty- Then I looked at Sam, next to me, at hospital, and I remembered I promise that I made you. Take care of Sam. "
"God, my Y/N. What have you done? "
"I went to knock on the Hells door, but apparently, I was not even welcome there."

He sigh and this looks like a laugh "It's not that they didn't want you, they are not worthy to have you there. Luckily you've knocked on the wrong door."

I do surround him in a hug... warm and strong at the same time.

"I don't exist if you don't exist Dean. And now, I have a fucking fear that you can touch me in some way. Look ... I suck. " I whisper on his chest.

"Lie down." I can't feel my heart for a second.
"Dean, I don't think that's the a great idea..."

"Yes it is. You're losing too much blood. "
I obey because I feel weak.

My strength is going to be lower and lower. He sits next to me, taking me a lock of hair behind my head. He lifts my shirt, now full of blood.

The smell of Jack Daniels goes into my nostrils and the amber liquid into my wound, making me clench eyes and teeth.

Then even the needle enter in my skin and flesh and finally his hand rests on the red skin on my side.

"You look beautiful, even so, red and wild."

"Stop say crap."

It lies on top of me making me freeze.

I look in to his eyes, lock them to mine, making me feel inadequate.

"I-starts, kissing my neck and down to the space between my breasts-love-continues down to the belly-every single- He moves to the waistband of pants and I bite my lower lip-centimeter-Raise the eyes on me-your body.- Ends placing a kiss on the wound on my left hip.

-It already hut less.-

-Do not let anyone, ever again, to tell you that you are ugly, fat or whatever may have told you ... not even yourself.-

He rests his head on my chest, closing his eyes.

I raise my arm, I take it at his head putting my fingers in his hair, and I finally feel at home.