A new story! I'm so obsessed with Supernatural and I've been wanting to do a fanfic for this show for ages (a bit of a change from TVD). I hope you enjoy it and give it a chance. The OC is not a hunter (fed up of reading the same type of fanfics).
I do not own anything to do with Supernatural or its characters, only my own story line and OC.
:) xxx
The last thing he remembered was the sight of her dark ginger locks as she wrenched open the door to his car and launched herself out of it; the subsequent slamming of the door preventing him from stopping her in her tracks. Her words still echoed inside his head every time he had replayed the memory. They were always as clear and filled with contempt as they had been the day she spat them out.
"I wish I'd never met you, Dean Winchester."
It was not the last time he had laid eyes on her but it was the memory that had ingrained itself so vividly and unapologetically on his brain, and it haunted him now as sweat clung to his body. Whenever he found himself alone and lamenting on his questionable moral actions, his destructive mind brought her image to him and tormented him with regrets.
"Dean."
The sound of his name being called tore Dean away from his self-destructive dreaming and, lifting his head off his sweat soaked pillow and eyeing his brother with distaste, he flung the sheets away from his bare body and sat himself up on the edge of the bed.
Averting his gaze and rolling his eyes, Sam scoffed in disbelief.
"Jesus, dude, wear some pants or warn me the next time you're gonna expose me to your junk."
Rubbing the sleep away from his eyes, Dean smirked at his younger brother before pulling on a pair of black boxers. Stretching out each of his muscles as he stood, Dean only half-listened as Sam talked at him; his mind still firmly on thoughts of past memories.
"Did you hear a word I've just said?" Sam asked, already knowing the answer to his question.
"Huh? What? Yeah… I was listening."
"What did I just say, Dean?"
"You found a case?"
"Not even close, Dean." Sam responded with a sigh.
Zipping up his worn denim jeans and throwing on a black fitted t-shirt, Dean stared expectantly at Sam as he waited for the man to repeat the former half of the conversation. When Sam still hadn't uttered another word, Dean huffed out a breath but kept his tone light as he addressed his younger brother.
"Okay, c'mon man. I know I can be a douche but don't just stand there staring at me. You look like a disappointed mother."
Grimacing, Sam took a step towards Dean and cautiously placed a hand on his shoulder. His eyes slipped to the distinctive mark on Dean's lower arm that signified the devastating curse he was saddled with and he involuntarily gulped. His apprehension, though, had very little to do with fear of his own brother but was born of the fear of Dean's reaction once the news had been broken to him.
Not missing a beat, Dean rubbed the mark with the pad of his thumb then dropped his hand away. Grabbing a plaid shirt from the drawer of his dresser, he shoved his arms through the holes and quickly covered the mark that had begun to take over his humanity. Turning back to Sam, Dean noticed how his brother's brown eyes held conflicting emotions. Dean could not be sure of what was bothering Sam, but he was certain that whatever it was he would not happy about it.
"Right, out with it."
"Dean, I think you should sit down."
"Just spit it out, Sam. I'm not a china doll."
Running his hands through his shaggy brown hair, it was a long moment before Sam finally plucked up enough courage to speak again. Even so, the words were difficult to find in such a delicate situation and each one left his mouth with great reluctance.
"Beth's in hospital."
It scared Sam how quickly the expression on Dean's face changed. Gone was the tiredness that constantly plagued his eyes, and with it disappeared the underlying panic that was usually just a scratch below the surface of Dean's swagger and fake bravado. Instantly, Dean's green eyes burned bright with a myriad of emotions that flitted across his face so quickly that Sam struggled to confirm each one.
"Dean, stop. Stop!" Sam urged as he pushed his brother back.
Fighting off Sam as he tried to barge past the taller man, Dean glared at him when he was prevented from leaving. In that instant, he would have gladly laid Sam to the floor if it meant he could get to Beth sooner. It was not the Mark that was making his veins boil crazily with bloodlust. No, that was his own instinct and his overwhelming desire to be near the one woman he dared to call his family. If taking down his only brother was the only way for him to get the hell out of the bunker and to the hospital, then Dean held no qualms about doing so. Sensing this, Sam released his grip on Dean but continued to block his path. It was imperative that he listened before making any rash decisions.
"Move, Sam."
"Just hold on a sec'. We need to talk about this."
"Screw talking. I need to get to the goddamn hospital."
"Just listen to me, please." Sam begged. "We need to decide if this is really the best thing for you to do."
Standing in silence, Sam rubbed his clean shaven chin. The quiet beginning to aggravate him further, Dean found himself balling his hands into such tights fists that his knuckles had turned deathly white. Forcing himself to swallow down the rising panic and anger, he flexed his fingers and hopped from one foot to the other as extreme impatience began to descend over him.
"I can go by myself. I'll be there and back in a few hours, Dean. I'll make sure she's okay."
Opening his mouth and then shutting it without speaking, Dean clenched his hands once again into fists as the underlying meaning of Sam's words dawned on him.
"You think I'm dangerous… that she's not safe around me?"
The accusation was clear and so was the hint of betrayal that lined Dean's voice as he barked his response.
"No. No." declared Sam, raising his hands in surrender and shaking his head.
"Then what, Sammy? because I honestly don't see any reason for me not to go."
"Dean, the last time you saw Beth she tried to run you down with a car."
Against his will a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he recalled the memory. Although it had been far from amusing at the time, Dean's heart skipped a beat and then almost burst with pride. Beth had been so enraged at him that day but what he remembered most was her passion, determination, and the way her love for him shone through even as she screamed her hatred for him.
"There are no cars for her to run me over with in the hospital."
Resisting his own urge to smile at Dean's quip, Sam settled on an eye roll and a soft sigh. He knew deep down that no amount of persuasion would prevent his brother from going to check on Beth's welfare himself. Years may have passed since the two had last been together, but Dean's feelings towards the woman had never diminished. They had always existed; simmering below the outer façade despite the time and distance, and regardless of the pain that had been caused between Dean and Beth.
"Beth wouldn't need a car… she'd strangle you with her bare hands." Sam replied playfully.
"Then let her." spoke Dean as he shoved his feet into boots and grabbed the keys to his beloved Impala.
His heart pounding out a rhythm inside of his heart, Dean almost ran through the corridors of the bunker towards the garage where his most prized possession awaited him. Climbing behind the wheel and starting the engine, the vehicle roared to life and Dean sped out and away from the bunker that the boys called home. As the miles sped by in a whirlwind of grey sky and black tarmac, the cursed mark on his forearm burned and Dean ignored the pit in his gut that suggested Sam's fears would become reality and instead, fed the hope filled wishes of his heart that Beth would welcome his presence.
"Let me go!" Beth yelled as she fought against the hands of the medical staff that surrounded her.
Everything hurt. The clinical lights of the hospital were too bright and intensified the hammering inside of her skull. Her limbs felt stiff and her pale skin was covered in cuts and scratches. Still, the physical pain she felt was nothing compared to the emotional anguish that was currently battering her heart and soul. The faces of the doctors trying to restrain her for her own safety did not register in her brain; they were merely obstacles to the mission she was on and she was becoming increasingly desperate with each second that passed.
"Please, miss… just calm down. You've been hurt and we-"
"I need to go! Let go of me!"
"Just lie down." the gentle voice continued. "We've called your family and they're coming."
Still struggling against the faceless arms, Beth shook her head. Whoever had spoken to her made no sense. Feeling the fight in her bones begin to ebb away, she found herself being laid back down on the hospital bed and its generically white sheets.
"I don't have any family."
Confusion sweeping over her, Beth felt a fresh surge of power rush through her veins and she once again started to fight the bindings of numerous stranger hands. The vague mention of sedatives registered in her brain and she kicked out at those surrounding her. Her bare foot making contact with flesh, she heard a low groan fill the air and she threw her elbow back in the hope of gaining her physical freedom. Instead, she felt a tug as someone pulled her arm straight and her eyes flickered sideways to the sight of a needle. Panic building, she screamed out.
"No! Stop! I have to get to-"
A pinch and her other hand automatically spun around and clawed the needle away from her body.
"Get your hands off her!" a voice boomed out; its deep timbre echoing of the walls.
Instantly, the room fell quiet and still. The drugs already taking over her body and making her mind feel hazy, Beth had to blink twice to be sure that the image in front of her was not a mirage or a trick. Authority seeping from every pore of his well toned body, Dean Winchester stood; his face stoic with intense fury as he stared down the doctors. Next to him, a look of pure anxiety on his face, was Sam.
"Excuse me, you can't be in here. It's family only." one doctor began; his gray eyes matching the greying hair around his temples.
"We are her family." Dean argued back right away, throwing the middle-aged man a menacing glare.
Stepping forward, Sam eyed his brother carefully and silently prayed that Dean would not lose the already thin grip he held on his violent temper. Directing his speech at the doctor, Sam spoke politely and efficiently.
"The hospital called us."
Paying no attention to Sam's conversation, Dean continued to fix his eyes on the two other male staff whose hands were still restraining Beth. Raising an eyebrow in a fierce and questioning manner, he watched in delight as they caught one another's gaze and simultaneously dropped their hands away from Beth. Finally free, she charged straight towards Dean but stumbled as the sedatives made quick work of disabling her body. Catching her in his waiting arms, Dean cradled her and brushed her wild, ginger locks away from her hazel eyes. Her eyelids already drooping, he held her body even closer to his and whispered her name.
"Beth. Hey, c'mon. Now is not the time to be giving me the silent treatment. Call me a jackass. Anything. Just talk to me."
Breathes coming in shallow bursts, Beth lifted her hand up and cupped Dean's jaw in her palm; days worth of stubble scratching her smooth skin. Frowning, she focused her eyes on his.
"You can't be here."
Forcing himself to lighten his tone and leaving his hurt feeling to one side as she rejected him, Dean shook her lightly to keep her conscious.
"You couldn't keep me away if you tried. You know how much I love a girl in a hospital gown. So sexy."
Smiling at Dean's trademark sarcasm, Beth let her eyes close even as the man holding her begged her to open them.
"Such a smart ass." she mumbled.
"Yeah, well, I'm your smart ass."
"You can't be here, Dean."
"Beth…" Dean spoke without any disrespect. "Shut up."
"I saw… I saw you die."
Stunned, the voices of those around him meant less than nothing as he watched Beth succumb to the effects of the administered sedatives. Turning to Sam, his ears tuned into the conversation taking place between his brother and the doctor.
"I can't tell you anything, Mr Winchester. I'm sorry."
"The hospital called us. Surely you can-"
"Miss Singer explicitly told us she has no family. I have to trust my patient and the only listed emergency contact is deceased. I'm sorry, but unless you're family I can't discuss her medical situation with you."
Forehead furrowed in frustration, Sam opened his mouth to reason with the doctor when Dean interrupted the two men.
"We are her family."
"Sir…" the doctor spoke at Dean with a weary sigh. "Miss Singer-"
"Shut up." Dean snapped as he lifted Beth fully into his arms and laid her down carefully on the bed; avoiding her wounds and abrasions.
Resisting the urge to brush her fair skin, Dean lifted his head and advanced upon the unnamed doctor who eyed him with great caution.
"Her name is Bethany Ray Winchester and she is my wife. Now, you're gonna tell my brother here every last little detail about why she's in this god forsaken place or so help me, I will make you wish you hadn't been born."
Smiling with satisfaction as the man immediately divulged the information Sam sought, Dean ordered for the remaining staff to leave and he blocked out the sounds of Sam and the doctor until they became nothing but white noise.
The sound of Dean's voice followed her as she ran down the corridor; the tiles cold and unforgiving on her bare feet. She could not remember what had happened to her shoes but it was trivial in that moment. Her survival was the single thing that mattered and her legs ached with the continued effort of running.
Daring to stop only for the briefest of seconds, Beth leaned her back against the wall and breathed as much air into her burning lungs as she could manage. Her heart beat out like a drum and she was certain it was calling to Dean like a homing beacon.
"Bethany!" Dean's voice trilled out with a whistle.
He was teasing her. Taunting her as he stalked her. There was no-where she could run; nowhere to hide. This was a game to him and she was his prey. It was only a matter of time before he found her and Beth knew that she was alive only by his good grace. The longer this sick game lasted, the more pleasure Dean got from it.
Compelling her legs to move, Beth raced down the corridor and made a left. If she could make it to Dean's room she could use the demon blade to hold him off. It would not save her life - nothing would - but if she was to die, then she would do everything in her power to last as long as possible.
Smiling ecstatically when she spotted the familiar door, Beth surged towards it and pulled urgently on the handle. When it refused to budge, a strangled sob escaped her throat and she punched her fist against the wood. All fight leaving her body, she pressed her forehead against the cool wood and strained to contain her terrified tears. The smell of soap, musk, and blood attacked her nostrils and she tensed. In spite of every cell in her body wanting her to take flight, Beth slowly twisted her body around to see Dean leering over her and smiling with malevolence.
"Boo."
She didn't even have time to scream.
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