The pounding on the door forced the blade from your hand to fall from your fingertips. The sound echoing throughout the room around you, KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. "Y/N are you okay?" Dean shouted, growing anxious when you weren't replying to his previous attempts to get your attention. It wasn't his fault, you had stumbled away moments before, mumbling something along the lines of needing to be alone. Even though you'd been sitting in silence with your nose buried in a book.
"Y/N, open this door. I don't want to break it down but I will." Dean's voice was deep and raspy, muffled by the door that separated you from him.
The pounding in your head increased, stiffing the pounding knocks Dean continued to create. You could barely hear him now, your vision growing weaker. Your hands were shaking by your side, the loud heartbeat slowing through your body.
Dean kicked at the door with a firm foot, his leg vibrating with pain as he placed it back on the ground. Of course the bunker doors weren't going to be that easy to break down. This wasn't some shabby hotel, this was the Men of Letters bunker. A place destined for its stability and safety.
Dean breathed heavy as he wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. He wasn't sure why, but something inside of him told him something was wrong on the other side of this door. KICK. You stumbled away in a hurried mess, practically tripping over your own feet. As if you'd downed a bottle of whiskey and then some. But Dean knew you better, you'd been keeping away from the stuff for some time now.
KICK. Dean could hear the wood starting to splinter now. And with one more kick, using all his power the door swung open. Your back was to Dean, head looking low, hands at your side. Dean noticed the blood, and his mind blanked. Blood was something he saw all the time, specially you being covered in blood, both from yourself and from other monsters and things. But something about this blood, this perfectly created puddle on the ground that made Dean stop dead in his tracks.
Everything was happening in slow motion, You heard the door come crashing down, but you lacked the physical strength to turn to see Dean. Every movement, every breath felt like sand paper scratching against your skin. You blinked again, this time the darkness stayed longer, your blinks suddenly slowing down to a snails pace. You didn't feel your body grow weak, in fact at this point you couldn't feel anything. All you could do is hear your heartbeat in your head, seeing visions of bright light.
Dean saw you starting to fall and instantly moved forward, his feet moving before his brain could tell him to. His arms wrapping around your weakened body before it came crashing to the floor. Dean lay you down, ripping off his shirt into threads and tying them around your exposed and bleeding wrists. "Y/N!" Dean cried out, not bothering to hide the pain in his voice. "Don't do this to me Y/N! Not now."
You grunted, words unable to come to mind right now. Dean wiped your hair from your face, holding your head to his chest as he continued to beg for you to be okay."I thought you were doing better. Why didn't you tell me things were getting bad again. Damnit Y/N! I can't be there for you if you don't talk to me!" Dean cursed.
Your blinking stopped, instead you kept your eyes closed as if that would conserve the energy you had. Your heartbeat was becoming less loud in your head, "Th-thank you." You croaked, trying to nuzzle into his chest.
"I should have known." Dean said more to himself than to you as he tried to coax you back to life.
You'd never been more grateful for Dean's brute strength, and love. If he hadn't kicked down that door you'd be on the floor right now, taking in your last breaths. But because of his love for you you were going to survive, even if it was going to be painful and put you on high alert.