A/N: Well, I've been wanting to write a cheating break up/make up fic for a while. And I thought Dean would be perfect for the job- remember when he cheated on that blond chick in highschool in the broom closet? Remember when Dean was captured by a Djinn and Sam told him he took his prom date on prom night, and Dean said that sounds like him?
I can't pretend like Dean doesn't have a history of cheating. So I wrote this fic, because I really wanted to write an apologetic Dean who's still in love with you even after you left him. d'aaaw.
(burned out flames, should never reignite.
but I thought you might.)
. . .
"Come on, this will be fun." A woman with cheaply dyed red hair was giggling as she tugged on the familiar hunters hand, leading him towards his Impala.
It was dark out, and the night air was crisp against your cheeks. You froze in your steps underneath a flickering street light as you watched Dean being dragged out of some bar by a woman in a drunken haze, a woman who he'd more than likely met that night.
You shoved your hands into the pockets of your black jacket as you watched Dean put his hands on her hip and press the redhead against the car.
'Late night researching? My ass.'
You heard Dean's deep chuckle from across the street, and could feel it vibrating through your bones. Disgusted.
"We gotta be real gentle with my baby, alright?" You watched him open the car door, letting the redhead lay in the passenger seat as he ran his hands up her thighs.
The mystery woman was giggling as she tugged on the elder Winchester's shirt, "Shhhutup, and get down here."
Dean's laughter filled your ears once again, and then there was just sickening silence.
Shaking your head in disgust, you turned on your heel and began to walk back to the hotel you guys were staying at for the night. Dean and Sam found something they thought could be a case in this town, and you stayed behind in the motel when they both agreed to split up and do some research.
You were so stupid, trying to stop by the nearest convenience store while the boys were out 'researching' for the case. Now you just witnessed the most heartbreaking thing you've seen, and you had no cherry pie to comfort yourself with when you get back to the hotel.
'Stupid.. lying.. fucking, Winchester.'
If he wanted to go to the bar, why didn't he just tell you? Why'd he lie?
Was he supposed to tell you? What were you to Dean, anyways?
You pretended to be asleep when Sam came home that night. You clenched your eyes shut, breathing lightly as you heard him dance around the room quietly so he wouldn't wake you, before heading towards the shower.
Dean came home about half an hour after Sam.
Sure, he wasn't out nearly as late as you thought he'd be, but that didn't mean you were going to forgive him. You know what you saw, and that was Dean making kissing faces with another woman behind your back.
Usually, if you fell asleep on the couch before oldest Winchester came home, he would wake you up gently and ask if you wanted to share the bed, or if you were comfortable on the couch.
That night, Dean came stumbling in, still drunk. He threw his car keys at the table, too intoxicated to realize he was stomping around and definitely would have woken you if you were actually asleep. Dean plopped down on his bed, and was snoring within minutes.
You pulled your blanket over your head as you listened to the eldest Winchester's snores.
What were you doing? Why were you still here?
You don't need the Winchesters help, you've been on your own for years. You'd just figured your days being alone were over.
You'd better start counting again.
You weren't sure if Dean was able to tell the difference in your attitude towards him that morning. You spent the whole day brushing him off, and wore your sunglasses in the backseat of the Impala so you wouldn't catch the eye of either of the brothers as you sped away to your next destination.
Dean's fingers were tapping on his steering wheel impatiently, off beat to the AC/DC song he was currently blasting through the speakers. You knew him well enough to know there was something on his mind. You weren't foolish enough to think that whatever was bugging him had anything to do with you.
You wondered to yourself if he even noticed that anything was off between the two of you.
Did he care?
"Hey, [your name], you getting hungry yet?" Dean finally spoke to you, breaking the silence between you two that you'd kept since you woke up on the couch that morning.
You had your sunglasses on, so you were able to glance into the rear-view mirror to make sure he was watching you, without Dean being able to see your eyes.
You kept your head turned to the window and let out an obnoxious yawn, patting your mouth and ignoring him completely, as if the thought of talking to him bored you. You felt like a student in high school once again, doing whatever you could to passively irritate your teachers since you weren't allowed to talk back to them.
In this case, you were unable to voice into words how disgusted you were by Dean.
So you ignored him.
"What the fuck was that?" Dean snapped after watching your little stunt. You rolled your eyes, the gesture hidden behind your sunglasses, and continued to stare out the window.
"I said, what the fuck was that?" He asked loudly over his music, turning the stereo off so you could answer him.
Ugh. Just the fact that he was even speaking to you so casually made your stomach churn. Flashes of the redhead pulling him into the Impala, the car you were riding in right now, kept popping into your head.
Overwhelmed by the sudden burn of your anger, and also by the fact that if Dean kept fucking talking to you, you were going to grab the wheel and ram all three of you guys into a fucking tree. Quietly seething with anger, you angrily kneed the back of Sam's seat, roughly jostling him awake.
"Wha– what's going on?" Sam asked groggily, head whipping between you and his brother.
You placed your chin in your palm and gazed out the window in disinterest. "Your brother was just asking you if you were hungry, Sammy." You said casually, ignoring the fact that Sam hated being called 'Sammy'.
"Oh. Well, uh, yeah, I could get a burger, I guess?" The younger Winchester said, voiced laced with confusion.
You drummed your fingers against your chin, trying to calm yourself down as you said sarcastically to yourself.
"Fan-tastic."
You didn't need to glance at the rear-view mirror to know that Dean was gazing intently at you, a hurt look across his face. Your stomach churned again in disgust, realization washing over you.
I can't pretend I'm okay with this anymore. This whole situation is making me sick. I have to leave.
You guys arrived at the motel relatively early. It was maybe 8pm, and Dean was pulling your bags out of the backseat while Sam was heading towards the receptionist to buy a two-bed room.
Quickly sliding out of the Impala's back seat, you rushed over to follow Sam without saying a word to Dean. Dean paused, peeking over the trunk of his Baby as he watched you go inside after Sam, still ignoring him completely.
He wore a deep frown on his face; Dean couldn't figure out what it was that had you so pissed at him. He's felt something off since that morning, and he didn't like the fact that he was left in the dark about whatever it was that's clearly bugging you.
Sam returned from the hotel by himself, and Dean shut the trunk of the Impala as he held both yours and his bags. "What was that about?" He asked his brother casually, referring to your sudden disappearance.
The younger Winchester furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion, bending down to pickup his backpack. "I don't.. I don't know? [your name] just went in there and got herself a single room. I don't want to tell her how to spend her money, but we could of handled it."
Dean sighed. Clearly he was missing something, and he was tired of waiting for you to come out and tell him what's wrong. When Sam saw you leaving the front desk with your own key in your hand, he shot Dean a sympathetic smile before heading towards their room so he could give the two of you some space.
You approached Dean with a blank look on your face. Dean frowned, worried by your expression. He's never seen you so emotionless, he's seen you calm, pissed, happy, vulnerable… but not this.
Now, he couldn't read your expression.
You finally reached him, and crossed your arms against your chest. Dean was still frowning, and he opened his arms so that you could embrace him. He hasn't touched you all day, and Dean was just realizing how often he needed to wrap his arms around you.
You gave him a cold look that clearly said that was the last thing you wanted him to do.
"[your name], whats going on with you today?" He asked in a gruff voice, genuinely confused.
You looked up at the night sky. The air was crisp. You wanted to hurry up and get this over with.
How were you going to explain to Dean you never wanted to see him again? He's saved your life before, for crying out loud. There was no way you could bring yourself to hate him, but you couldn't let him string you along anymore.
Maybe you were being selfish.
Dean never outright told you he wanted to be with you. He's told you that you were everything he was looking for, but that was between drunk, sleepy kisses at night after a hunt when the two of you were trying to quietly watch TV while Sam slept on the bed next to you. He's told you he was glad you were sticking around. Said he'd be thrown off his game if you left. He told you that you work well with them, you're smart, you listen to directions, you're brave.
Maybe it was your fault for over thinking his praise. Maybe you were being conceited, you weren't nearly as important to Dean as you thought you were.
If you really did fit him so perfectly, if you really were everything he wanted..
..why did he keep seeking out other women?
"I got a room," You answered with a simple shrug, arms folded across your chest as you glanced to the side, unable to meet his gaze.
Dean was openly scowling now, and he clutched your backpack tighter as he took a step towards you.
"Yeah, I can see that. What I wanna know is why? This your way of saying you need some space? All you gotta do is say the word, don't need to give me the cold fucking shoulder."
Maybe this was all your fault. Maybe you should have told him from the start what you saw, instead of keeping silent and letting it eat at you alive.
Last night wasn't the first time you saw Dean with another woman.
No, the first time you saw him with someone else was weeks after the first time he kissed you. You'd gotten tossed around by some vengeful spirit, and managed to salt and burn the poor thing, but Dean was still upset when he saw you limping back to the motel.
After he'd patched you up, and the two of you laid in bed for hours watching whatever was on the cable TV, he gave you a soft kiss to your lips and gently told you he was so, so glad you were okay.
The kiss had been innocent, but it was enough to put butterflies in your stomach. You and Dean didn't comment on it, you simply returned back to watching TV, but something had shifted between you two.
Dean smiled whenever you guys made any kind of eye contact. He lingered around for a few seconds too long when he was close to you, and he was fond of throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling your smaller body against his chest when he was in a teasing mood. You tried not to think too hard on these small things, wanting to remain normal with him. Not wanting to overthink your place in his heart.
Just friends, nothing more.
And then you saw him kissing some blonde passionately against some diner, only a week after he so innocently pecked your lips. You remember quickly turning away, returning to the motel without speaking a word to Dean when he came back from his little one-on-one time with the blond waitress.
You slowly took your bag out of Dean's hands. He reluctantly released your belongings, fingers twitching as he watched you balance the heavy sack on your shoulders.
"Alright, then. I need some space." You told him calmly.
Dean shook his head, thrown off guard by your dry response.
"..Alright, where the hell is this coming from, [your name]?" He reached forward and grasped your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. There was something off about you, and it was driving him insane. "What's wrong with you? You won't even look me in the eye."
You were too weak.
Now, being forced to see the hurt in Dean's eyes, you felt your resolve begin to crumble.
You still knew you had to leave him, there was no denying that. But maybe this wasn't Dean's fault. He never made you any promises, never told you that he was exclusively yours. You just didn't have the energy to explain why you needed the leave.
"Dean, I'm tired." You told him in a soft voice. It was probably the most truthful thing you've said to him all day.
You were tired of waiting for him to return your feelings. Tired of feeling like there was something wrong with you since he couldn't stop seeking other women's attentions.
Tired of trailing after him like some lovesick puppy, tired of him stringing you along.
You were tired of not knowing what you were to him. Dean's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, not understanding what you were trying to tell him. He began to tug you towards him for a hug, but you abruptly shoved him away.
"Sorry," You mumbled, and Dean couldn't figure for the life of him what it was you were trying to apologize about. You shook your head when he called after you, and you quickly headed towards your own motel room.
That night, you made sure you had all of your belongings together before writing on a yellow post-it note.
'thanks for everything, fellas
see ya when I see ya.'
No apology. No explanation.
You posted it on your hotel door and left at the crack of dawn. You were a coward, and you didn't want to confront Dean.
So you did what was best for you.
You ran.
(You've always been sort of selfish, like that.)
two years later
"[your name]?"
Your head turned when you heard a familiar voice call our your name.
Heart skipping a beat, already knowing who it was before turning around, you sucked in a sharp breath as you turned on your heel so you could face whoever it was calling out to you. Your lips split into a soft smile once you saw his familiar green eyes.
"Dean." You greeted gently, despite the sudden quickening of your heart beat.
It's been two years since you've seen Dean Winchester, which was more then enough time for you to get over him. You hoped.
You've let go of any ill feelings you felt for the oldest Winchester when you ran away from him years ago. You've forgiven him for messing around with other girls; it wasn't his fault, he never realized how much you lo.. liked, him. And you couldn't blame Dean for not.. liking, you back.
(Well you could, and you did, for at least half a year after the break up. You were over that now, really.)
Two years have passed, and any ill feelings have been long buried. Any feelings, in fact, and that included anything romanticized you felt for Dean Winchester.
Now, you had no problem regarding him as a friend. Just a friend. If that.
"Fancy meeting you here. If it's about that nest of vamps, I should let you know I just finished cleaning that up a few hours ago. Now, I'm celebrating." You smiled impishly, nodding your head towards the attractive man who you picked up an hour ago.
You gave Dean a knowing smirk. "You wanna catch up? Drinks on me. And by that, I mean drinks on my friend, over there. Trust me, he won't care if I drink this whole bar dry once I'm done with him."
Dean sucked in his breath, teeth grinding together. The last thing he was expecting was to run into you. The hunter had been a wreck when he went to your motel the morning you left him and realized you were gone. For good.
You didn't even say goodbye, all you'd done was leave a yellow post it note outside of your door, as if that were to make anything better.
He balled his hand into a fist, anger welling through him from just remembering that morning. He'd been hurt when he realized that you left, incredibly hurt, especially since you never gave him any warnings that you wanted out. That you wanted to be away from him. It was like having the best part of his day ripped away without any explanation at all.
Sam was able to tell his brother was hurting. And oh, Dean was hurting, but the oldest Winchester had always been good with hiding his hurt. He figured he deserved it somehow. He knew for a fact that he did. He just prayed you were safe, wherever you were. Safe, and happy.
After Dean returned from Hell, the events that followed behind were enough to keep his mind occupied from any thoughts of you. You were shoved down deep, just like everything else that went wrong with his life that he had no control over.
Dean slept with women when he had the chance. Every time, he was left feeling empty. Unsatisfied. Guilty. There was always going to be something missing, something he's had before but won't be able to ever find again and-
-he didn't realize his nails were digging into his palm as he listened to you speak. He nearly broke through skin, and Dean quickly relaxed his palms before they could begin bleeding.
You quirked an eyebrow at Dean, noticing how he's been staring at you speechless for a while now.
"So?" You asked after seven awkward seconds of silence. "Drinks?"
Dean snapped out of his thoughts, the tension releasing from his shoulders. His emerald hues darted between you and the man leaning against the pool table who you were currently.. with, apparently.
Dean immediately shook his head.
While the thought of.. catching up, hell, even just looking at you was a hard opportunity to pass, he knew he wouldn't be able to stomach reuniting with you when it was clear someone else had your attention. It was hard not to be pissed at the thought of you and the pretty boy over there. Still, he couldn't blame you for moving on.
He was a fucking curse, and you were smart for getting out when you did.
"I.. I'll have to pass." Dean's tone was gruff, and you were surprised that he would turn down free drinks. But it has been two years, and maybe you didn't know Dean Winchester as well as you'd once had.
He looked uncomfortable with the thought of 'catching up', and you were secretly relieved that he denied your request, because Dean was looking just as handsome right now as he was the night you'd left him at that motel. Handsome, and exhausted. You couldn't ignore the tired look in his eyes, and you were surprised by the wave of concern that washed over you when you realized he hasn't been getting much sleep.
"Are you sure?" You asked gently, placing a hand on his green army jacket. "What's the rush? I've already handled the nest, so you're out of a job. Lets play some pool."
Dean's gaze shifted to your hand as you touched his shoulder gently. He prayed you wouldn't be able to tell how quickly his heart sped at your touch. It was getting harder and harder for him to pretend he wasn't miserable.
Like seeing you here, looking just as beautiful and lively as he'd seen you last, wasn't making him loose his fucking mind.
Dean swallowed thickly. He needed to hurry up and get out of here before he said something he regrets. Something stupid, like, ask you why you ran out on him.
Instead, Dean asked the next question that was burning a hole in his mind.
"Did you take out that vamp nest yourself, or.. have you found yourself some new partners?"
There was no denying the venom in his voice at that last part, and his gaze flicked back over to the attractive looking man you'd been playing pool with.
You followed his gaze before letting out a startled laugh. "Oh, no, no. I just met him. Good company though, amirite?" You gave him a cheeky grin, and Dean was clenching his fist once again, gritting his teeth together as he tried to over come the nauseating wave of jealous that crashed through him.
The hunter cleared his throat, trying to remain natural.
"You did a good job, then. Especially on your own, you managed to beat me and Sammy to it, at least." He paused, eyes darting over your smaller frame before chewing on the bottom of his pink lip. "You've been.. keeping yourself safe, right?"
Have you really been hunting alone these past two years? Dean wasn't sure how he was supposed to leave this bar without you in tow now that that knowledge in his mind. He and his brother were the reason you got into hunting, they saved you and brought you along when you showed potential. The fact that you left and continued hunting on your own..? It was beginning to get hard not taking this personal.
You gave him a small smirk, "You betcha! It's not like I go looking for trouble, Dean."
He raised an eyebrow at you, as if suggesting otherwise, and you smiled sheepishly. "..Okay, not usually. But a vamp nest is pretty hard to turn a blind eye to. I knew how to take them down, and I wasn't afraid to do it. Any one else would of done it if they were in my position. The point is, I got the job done, hence the celebration!"
You spread your arms wide cheerfully, gesturing towards the bolstering bar. Dean noticed the drunken tint in your cheeks, and he took a moment to really look you up and down, wanting to save this beautiful image into his memory for the rest of his life.
You.. Dean still found you absolutely stunning. He noticed how your [hair color] locks have grown out since the last time he saw you. You looked healthy, happy, and he was trying hard to ignore the fact that you needed to leave him in order to find your happiness. Taking away his own, with you.
It was suddenly becoming harder and harder for Dean to pretend seeing you hadn't rattled him to his core.
"You're looking good, [your name]." Dean told you in a soft tone, a tone you'd once been quite familiar with. "I'm glad.. well, it's always nice to see old friends."
Your eyes widened at that, and you snapped you gaze up to meet his green hues.
Dean was looking anywhere but your eyes.
"..I've got to go," He muttered quickly, before brushing past you and heading towards the door. You choked on his name, before closing your mouth. You were frozen in your spot; were you supposed to go after him? Comfort him? Ask him to stay around?
You've honestly let go of all feelings for Dean, both good and bad.
Now, he was just another hunter. Someone you knew you could count on when it came to the supernatural, but outside of that? There was nothing left between you two.
You stayed at the bar for maybe a half hour longer after Dean's surprise appearance. You were still in a good mood, but there was no denying that seeing your former flame threw you off guard. Your mind kept straying to Dean; why did he look at you like that? Was he not happy to see you? You couldn't understand why he wouldn't be- it's not like you cheated on him or anything.
You had to remind yourself that you didn't do anything wrong. Not tonight, and not two years ago. Back then you were only doing what was right for you, and you were doing the same thing now.
It was tempting to run into Dean's arms and embrace him when you saw him. To tell him you were glad he was still alive, that you're sorry for leaving him with nothing but a stupid post it note that said 'see ya when I see ya'.
But you didn't. It would be too easy to get sucked into the Winchester orbit again. Too easy to get sucked into Dean.
You couldn't go back to being everything he's ever wanted, but still not quite enough.
Your relationship with Dean- after believing that the two of you had something special, and catching him with countless other women? You view on relationships changed.
Dean had been everything you wanted. Strong, brave, protective, strong. You knew you would never find that in another man. You didn't want to find that in another man. You never wanted to love someone as much as you had loved Dean Winchester, you'd never give someone the opportunity to hurt you like that ever again.
And so you took what you needed from men, and then you left. That would of been the case tonight before Dean came marching back into your life. And of course, seeing him in person was just a reminder that you didn't need, on how no man in this dump bar will ever be able to compare. So, thirty minutes later, you bid goodbye to the friends you made at the bar, and you were leaving out the exit alone.
You pulled your phone out to check the time. 12:30A.M, probably late enough to grab some snacks at take a well needed nap, if your body would crash from the adrenaline of beheading four vamps by yourself. You glanced back up and froze when you saw Dean leaning against his stupid Chevy Impala, his arms crossed against his chest. His eyes glued on you.
You open your mouth to speak, but have no words, and so you pressed your lips back together and frowned. You've been fearing this confrontation for two years now.
Dean exited the bar with his hands balled into fists. He was pissed, so pissed that he threw a punch at the stone wall of the pub once he stepped outside. Cursing himself and ignoring his now throbbing fist, Dean stomped his way back over to his Baby and got into the drivers seat, slamming the door shut.
He pulled out his phone and called his brother. Sam answered on the second ring, sounding confused on the other line.
"Dean? We just got off the phone- did you find the location of the nest already?" The younger Winchester questioned.
"No." Dean answered roughly, sitting in the dark in his car as he glared daggers at the bar you were in. "There is no nest, Sammy. [your name] took care of it." Dean spoke your name bitterly, and Sam went quiet on the other line. Dean let out a sour laugh at Sam's shocked silence, nodding his head knowingly. "Yeah. I know right?"
"...[your name] is there?" Sam asked gently. He wanted to ask his older brother how he felt after seeing you. Sam wasn't blind to his brothers broken heart. But it seemed Dean was able to get over it- one can only care about something so much after spending so many years in Hell.
Still, that didn't stop Sam from wanting to ask how Dean felt about running into you. But Sam knew his brother well enough to know he would only get upset if he showed any concern.
Sam was still confused, "-Wait a minute. Let me get this straight, [your name] is still hunting? I thought that's why she disappeared, she wanted out?"
"That's what I thought too, Sammy." Dean's voice was rough, dripping with bitterness. "Guess we were both wrong."
"That makes no sense, then. Why would [your name] just up and leave without saying anything to us? There's something we're missing." Sam didn't notice he was thinking out loud, and he abruptly stopped speaking once he realized these were the same thoughts his brother has probably been beating him self up about for the past two years now.
He quickly changed the subject, "Well? How did she look?"
"Great." Dean answered without thinking. He cringed, just glad he didn't say the first thing that popped into his head. Even more beautiful then I remember.
"Uh, she looks great. Happy. Healthy. Her hairs gotten a little bit longer."
Sam smiled sadly into the phone as he listened to his older brother ramble on. Dean couldn't hide it from him, he was still in love with [your name]. It made Sam's heart feel just a little bit lighter: both he and his older brother have been through so much.
These past years were changing the brothers, and Sam wasn't able to tell if it was for good or worst yet. But one thing that seemed to remain the same was Dean's feelings for you. And Sam was willing to bet your feelings having changed much either.
There was a short, comfortable silence on the line while Dean gathered his thoughts. Sam broke the silence with a gentle voice.
"You know.. maybe you should go talk to her-" He began.
His older brother let out a loud scoff and jammed the keys into the engine. "Like hell," He snorted. Sam panicked when he heard Dean start the car in the background, knowing that his brother was running away.
"Wait- Dean! Wait!" Sam said in an urgent tone. "Just give [your name] our number, alright? We've changed it so many times, I doubt she still has it. Plus, if she's hunting alone, it would be better if she could call us if anything comes up."
Dean sighed, hating that his brother was right. This wasn't just about his feelings for you anymore, it was about keeping you safe.
Only, it was still about his feelings for you. It's always been about his feelings for you. Dean knew his attraction to you wasn't normal. In fact, once he realized what was happening, it scared the living hell out of him.
Sure, at first when he and Sam saved you from some vengeful spirit, things were normal. You were just another pretty civilian woman they managed to save in the nic of time.
Only you weren't.
You told the boys you could help, that you wanted to help. You knew all sorts of mythology, legends, and historical texts that you'd figured to be just stories, but the fact that they weren't spurred you on. You could help. You knew your stuff. And so they let you tag along.
The first months were great, you listened to all of their rules, you never pulled any stupid stunts, and it was nice to have an extra pair of hands along that Dean knew could follow orders. And then you got tossed against the wall by an evil spirit, and Dean knew the minute he saw you limping back to the motel, he couldn't afford losing you. Never.
You'd only been around for six months, but he was used to waking up next to you or Sammy- whichever one he was sharing the bed with that night. He was used to listening to your giggles as you watched re-runs of your favorite shows. Used to watching you throw your hair up and walk around the hotel in a pair of mitch-matching socks.
He didn't realize it until he was nursing your bruises that night, so overwhelmed by the thought of losing the little bit of sunshine he can count on for everyday weather that he placed an innocent kiss on your lips.
Dean was stunned by his reaction to seeing you hurt, it opened something in him that he wasn't ready to address yet. Something he couldn't address. But that didn't stop him from wanting you to stick around.
And that was probably his first mistake.
Dean let out an irritated huff as he pulled the keys out of his engine and hung up on Sam.
Shit, there was nothing he wanted more then to stomp back into that fucking pub and drag you out by your arm. To scream at you for answers. Or maybe just to 'catch up', like you'd suggested.
He sighed, stepping out of baby so he could get fresh air and pop his elbows on her hood, deep in his thoughts.
He couldn't go back in there, not while you were surrounded by men undressing you with their eyes. Dean wanted more then anything to show that pretty boy some of the tricks he learned in hell- and that thought frightened him. He was damaged, changed, different from the man that you knew two years ago. He didn't want to find out if you would like this new him. Even he didn't like the new him.
He wanted more than anything to flee the parking lot right now, just hop into his baby and speed off into the night without another thought of [your name] and the fact that she was so much more beautiful then he'd possibly imagined.
But Sammy was right. You'd be safer with their number, and he'd feel better once he gave it to you. But his feet were refusing to move, and with a huff, Dean leaned his back against Baby as he glared at the bar, willing himself to go back inside.
He was surprised when you came stumbling outside, fifteen minutes later. His jaw clenched, unable to control the waves emotion that seeing you was washing over him.
It's been two years, [your name]. You've been running from this for two years. You don't need to be scared anymore. You can do this.
"You're still here?" You mused in an interested tone, ignoring the way Dean's green eyes didn't waver from your gaze, not once. "Are you waiting for something?"
"You." Dean answered in a clipped voice.
You swallowed shakily, quirking a confused eyebrow up at him. You finally made it in front of Dean so that he was only two feet away from you, and you glanced up at the night sky, suddenly remembering the last time you'd seen him. If you recalled correctly, the situation had been similar to this.
"Well, here I am. Did you want to get that drink?"
Dean clenched his teeth. "No." He said in the same clipped tone. You let out an exasperated sigh, throwing your hands up in defeat.
"Okay, well? What do you want then, Dean?" You asked, annoyance dripping from your voice. If he was going to keep being snippy with you, then you would just leave. No point in staying to talk if he doesn't want to talk.
Dean struggling to keep his composure. He was mad- no, pissed that you left him without a real note. See 'ya when I see 'ya? What the hell was that supposed to mean? It was like you'd purposely tried to piss him off before you left him. But did it really even matter anymore, two years later? Dean always knew he would never have a normal relationship- but you, you were everything he could possibly want, and he only knew you for less than a year.
He'd seen so much potential in you, in what you guys could have been..
"I want to know why." The hunter finally announced.
Your eyebrows rose in understanding. You could understand Dean's hurt and confusion, but.. well, you'd honestly expected him to get over it by now, like you did. Was that selfish of you to assume?
You lifted a brow at him, attempting to be humorous. "Seriously Dean-?"
"Yes. Seriously." Dean cut you off in a no-nonsense tone that you'd once been quite familiar with.
You swallowed nervously. Again, you hate confrontation. But you felt a sudden burst of courage; you've been holding this in for two years, and it would be easier to tell him the truth now that you weren't in love with him anymore. You weren't sure if it would hurt any less, though.
"I want answers, [your name]. I've been waiting years for this moment, I can wait all night if you want." He folded his arms and narrowed two green hues at you, not lying in the least when he said he would wait all night. "Why did you leave me, [your name]?"
Well.
It certainly didn't hurt any less. Especially with the way Dean was looking at you, betrayal in his eyes. You abruptly shifted your gaze, unable to look into those hurt filled eyes any longer. You crossed your arms against your chest in a defensive manner and took a step back, turning your side to him so you could avoid his gaze.
"I didn't.." You began to deny, but Dean's hands were on your shoulders, forcing you to face him.
"Yes, you did." He cut you off darkly before you could come up with some excuse. He couldn't control himself, he could see you tucking back into that shell just like before, when you'd left. He couldn't bear the thought of letting you walk away again without getting any answers. His grip didn't loosen, but Dean's face softened. "I just want to know why, [your name]. Why you gave up on.." Me, Dean wanted to say.
"..us." He finished gently.
Aahh. There was that familiar spark of anger. You took a step back and slapped Dean's hand off of your shoulder.
"Pfft!" You snorted, unable to hold back your laugh. "There was no us, Dean. There was you, and there was me. There was you, and there was the girl from the bar. You, and the girl from the hunt. You, and the waitress from the diner. But as for us? Don't make me laugh. You made it clear there was no us."
There. You let it out, and you didn't feel nearly as bad as you thought you would. In fact, you felt relieved for finally telling him the truth, and you glanced up to meet Dean's gaze in a determined manner as you asked boldly, "Can you blame me for leaving?"
Dean's eyes widened, taking a step back as he had to lean against his Impala so he wouldn't stumble back from shock.
Two years of thinking that you'd left him because you thought he was cursed, because you thought he was a monster for the things he's done.. Dean felt relief because he'd been wrong.
You didn't leave because you thought he was a lunatic- you left because he was a dick.
And that made all the sense in the world to Dean.
He sucked in a sharp breath of air, a dry smile forming his lips once it dawned on him how much he must of hurt you. 'Shit, I'm a fucking asshole.'
Dean inwardly cursed himself, because the thought that you'd caught him messing around with those women had never once crossed his mind.
He was really a dick.
"No." Dean finally answered in a somewhat breathless voice. "I don't blame you- at all. I'm- I'm a fucking joke." He rubbed an anxious hand down his face, and you smiled at him, liking his response.
"Damn straight!" You agreed, smiling brightly.
The worst part was done, now you could go back to being friends. You felt somewhat foolish for waiting so long to resolve this issue between the two of you. Dean was leaning against the impala's door, his arms crossed over his chest as he regarded you with a careful look that you didn't recognize. You'd once been able to read Dean Winchester so well.
"I'm sorry, [your name]." He said suddenly in a somber tone, which you soooooo weren't ready for.
You let out a squeak because of his awkward apology, you definitely didn't want to accept it, but you wanted to reassure him that things were fine between you two. "Don't worry about it Dean. I'm waaaay over that chapter in my life-"
"No." Dean cut you off again, shaking his head. He stepped away from the impala and towards you, causing you to gulp nervously as you looked up, up, up into his green eyes.
Have you mentioned he was just as handsome as ever?
"I need to say this. I'm sorry, [your name], not only for hurting you but..." He took another step towards you, and Dean placed his hand on your shoulder gently, forcing you to face him. You tried to ignore the sudden increase of your heart beat.
The larger hunters emerald hues were shimmering with raw honesty, and you couldn't bring yourself to look away.
"..I'm sorry for making you believe I didn't love you. I did." He brought his hand up to your cheek, his rough thumb gently stroking your smooth skin. "..I still do." The pain in his voice was evident. "I never stopped."
You were hypnotized by the tremor in his voice. You were not.. expecting this. You weren't expecting a confession. He loved you? When did he figure that out? When he was locking lips with a random at some bar? Maybe when he was messing around with that chick in his Impala?
You shook your head, snapping our of your trance and giving Dean a sympathetic smile.
"Sorry. I don't believe you."
Dean took a step back from you and released a defeated sigh before giving you a knowing smile.
"I guess I deserve that. Here. Sammy said it'd come in handy for you to have this."
He handed you a cellphone number, which you took gratefully. It'd be nice to have the brothers in your contact list once again, and although you knew you wouldn't be giving them a call, it was nice to know you had two of the strongest hunters for back up for worst case scenarios.
You tucked it into your pocket and gave Dean an honest smile.
He watched as you wordlessly pocketed his cellphone number, and graced him with that beautiful smile that he hasn't seen in years.
There was no way you could possibly understand how good it felt for Dean to see you. You didn't know about his years down in the pit, you didn't even know that the brothers had cheated death- were still cheating death.
There was no denying the relief he felt knowing that you left before you were able to get dragged into his bullshit.
Dean pulled you into a hug that had you tensing from the surprise contact, but he didn't care. He rested his chin on top of your head and simply savored the feeling of you in his arms. He wasn't sure he'd see you again after this- if you wanted to see him again.
Now that he knew why you left him, he couldn't blame you for never coming back.
"Me and Sam have a place now, you know. Plenty of rooms, plenty of space. You can stay if you want.." He trailed off in a hopeful manner.
"I can't." You told him simply, finally giving into his embrace and resting your chin on his shoulder. However, you didn't dare hug him back.
"Alright," Dean said gently, not pushing you for answers. Instead, he gently ran his hand up and down your back in a soothing manner that gave you pleasant chills. "At least let me give you a ride to where you're going."
You pulled away from Dean's embrace, shaking your head with a knowing smile on your face. "It was nice seeing you again, Winchester." You weren't sure if you were lying, or telling the truth. "It's good to see that you're still alive and kicking. The world is a better place with you in it, you know. You've helped a lot of people."
Dean clenched his jaw shut, not explaining how he'd spent a year in Hell and for some reason was brought back by some angels who told him that same exact thing. Only, this time, Dean could believe it coming from your mouth.
He swallowed back the words he wanted to express to you; his apologies, his guilt, how nice it was to see you again.. even if you were over him. He wasn't over you. Not by a long shot.
The oldest Winchester watched as you gave him one last beautiful smile, and began to walk away. His throat tightened, before choking out to your retreating form.
"You- you'll take care of yourself?" He asked in a protective voice.
You giggled quietly to yourself, amused that some things about Dean hasn't changed at all. "Of course!" You responded easily, lifting your hand to acknowledge him as you walked away.
Dean watched you leave for a few seconds longer, before calling out again. "You'll give me a call?"
This time, you turned your head to look over your shoulder at Dean, who was watching your retreating form from across the parking lot.
You gave him a soft, sad smile. "Of course."
You lied.
six or seven months later
...
Dean frowned as he received a text message from an unfamiliar number, clicking the green 'open' button.
'Please help me. 3250 Williams Drive.'
A strange text message with an address. Dean abruptly slammed the book that he was researching for the Mark of Cain shut. Sam's head snapped to his brother, startled by his sudden movements.
"Dean?" Sam asked in a questioning voice.
Dean glared at his cellphone. It could be a trap, it was likely to be a trap. But what if it wasn't? What if.. it was somebody.. who really needed him?
He was trying desperately hard not to get his hopes up. The first thing that came to mind was [your name], but he quickly brushed that thought away. It's been half a year since he last saw you, two and a half years since you left him.
He felt pathetic, still thinking of you even after you promised to call, but never did. And now that Dean knew the reason why you left him, there was no way he could hold it against you.
You were always a smart girl, clearly smart enough to run away from the Winchester curse before anything could happen to you. Still, this didn't stop Dean from caring about you any less. Nothing could change his feelings for you, and nothing would stop him from running head first into danger if it meant protecting you. He and Sammy were the ones who got you into the hunting business anyways- it was the least he could do.
Dean ignored Sam's confused look and took the keys to Baby.
"Dean?" Sam asked again, realizing that his brother was leaving without warning.
"I'll be back," Dean murmured, eyes locked to his cell phone as he stomped out of the bunker. The mark on his arm was aching, and he was thirsty for blood.
You really fucking did it this time. You would be cursing yourself, or pulling your hair in frustration if you could, but you currently had no control over your body.
Honestly, this was all your fault.
You'd been reckless, picking up some handsome stranger from the bar and going home with him. He seemed harmless, and he was definitely a looker. Jack was probably the most attractive man you've run into in a while, but that was never a good enough excuse for clouded judgement.
You slept with him, stayed the night, and slept with him again in the morning instead of sneaking out before he woke up like you usually did. Jack was absolutely enthralled by you, he told you you were beautiful, your kisses shook him to his core, that you made him feel alive.
Those should have been warning signs, but you might of liked his praise a bit more then you cared to admit.
And then, in the morning when Jack was handing you a plate filled with all of your favorite breakfast foods, he quickly slipped a ruby ring onto your third finger.
Your eyes widened, and you opened your mouth to tell him he was crazy, that this was just a one night stand, but to your horror, the words that came out of your mouth was, "Thank you, Jack."
He was controlling you. The ring was controlling you.
You were a prisoner in your own body.
"Let me repay you for this beautiful gift," The words were coming out of your mouth in a sultry voice, a voice that didn't match the disgust you felt in your mind. You felt your body fall to it's hands and knees as you tugged on his belt with movements that were not your own.
It was torture. It was a special kind of torture, screaming at yourself in your mind to stop, watching as you touched his body gently with all of the care in the world. You thought you were going to be sick, but your body wouldn't listen.
You spent the whole day being forced to play house with this witch- wizard? Whatever he was, the ring that he gave you binded you somehow. You noticed he didn't have that magical control over your thoughts. Still, you couldn't control the words that came out of your mouth (and trust me, his johnson was not as big as you so graciously told him it was).
When night came, and Jack was spent from having his way with you, he turned his back to you in the bed, and you quickly pulled your cellphone out from your bag before he could notice. Your body moved slow and felt heavy, like you were stuck in resin, but after struggling for several minutes to shoot a relatively short text message, you quickly deleted it from your inbox and collapsed on the bed.
You weren't even sure Dean still had the same number. The chances of him showing up were low, real low, especially since you never gave him that call that you promised.
You clenched your eyes shut. You wanted to cry but couldn't. You were having a mental break-down inside of your head. Jack grumbled sleepily about wanting you closer, and your body curled around him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
You were on your own.
You always have been.
There was no reason that would change now.
Dean frowned as he sped down the highway, grateful that there were no cars out this late at night since he was going double the speed limit. The address you gave him, he was assuming it was you, was only three hours away.
He'll make it in one and a half.
Dean tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in anticipation. You haven't reached out to him in years, and the fact that the first time you do, you're asking for help? It doesn't ease his concerns in the slightest bit.
He only hoped that it was you who sent the text message, because if it was some demon trying to fuck with him-.. well, the Mark of Cain has been making his skin crawl since the moment he got it, just begging to be tested out.
Dean rolled down Baby's passenger window so he could get some fresh air. He was oddly calm about the fact that he could be driving right into a trap. Dean knew for sure, he would take down any of the sons of bitches who tried to fuck with him. Tried to fuck with what he cared most about.
Your eyes snapped open.
You could feel Jack's arm tossed around your waist, and your first instinct was to bend it back and dislocate it from his shoulder.
Then, you remembered that you didn't have full control over your body, so you couldn't tear him apart like you wanted to. Still, something must of woken you up. You swore you heard a noise in the living room, so you swung your legs over the bed after lovingly removing Jack's arms from your waist.
Mentally, you were gritting your teeth and glaring daggers at the man. Sadly, you couldn't take care of him like you wanted to, not while this ring was stuck on your finger. You slowly got out of the bed.
"Mmm, [your name], where are you going?" Jack asked sleepily from underneath his blankets, head buried in pillows.
"I think I heard something," You answered honestly. Inwardly, you cursed yourself in your mind. You wanted to lie and tell him you were going to the bathroom or getting a glass of water, but you were incapable of lying. Thankfully, Jack was too worn out from your earlier activities to ask what you were doing, and he fell back asleep.
You tip toed you way out of the room, slowly creeping into the living room.
The lights were off, and the hairs on your neck were prickling from anticipation. You always had good reflexes, and you were able to tell something was off.
Rounding the corner into the kitchen, you were startled when you flicked the light on and saw Dean, knife in hand, and a sheepish expression on his face once he realized he's been caught by you.
"[your name]?" He whispered gently, eyeballing the pajamas you were wearing. Jack had a thing for itty bitty shorts and tank tops, but you couldn't explain that to Dean, not with the spell casted on you.
"Dean.." You responded in confusion. He quickly brought his finger to his lips and shushed you when he heard movement from the bedroom, and Dean quickly pushed you behind him to shield you from whatever the danger was.
Inwardly, you were screaming at him to get away from you. You weren't safe, you didn't have control over your body, but of course none of these words came out. Dean placed a large hand on your elbow to gently pull you behind him, and you closed your eyes in relief at his familiar touch.
"I've got you, sweetie." He was speaking to you in that gentle tone he reserved for frightened civilians, and the look on his face was pure concentration.
You missed that look on his face. God, you missed him so much. You wanted to tell him, to thank him, to apologize to him, but the words were locked in your head. Dean stopped to look down at you once he realized that you weren't responding, and he brushed a strand of [hair color] locks out of your face. "You alright?"
You pressed your lips together, not answering him. Suddenly, Jack walked into the kitchen, an interested look on his face. His eyes skimmed over Dean, who immediately tucked you behind his back once he noticed the strangers arrival.
Jack slipped his gaze towards you, a knowing smile spreading across his lips. "Do we have a problem here, [your name]?"
Dean snapped his gaze towards you, and the flash of hurt that crossed his face when you ducked out of his arms to go run behind the safety of Jack would have made you choke up if you had control over your body. But you didn't, so you were wrapping your arms around Jack's elbow, nestling your cheek against him.
"No, my love. This is Dean Winchester, he's an old friend of mine."
"Alright.." Dean's voice was gruff as he glared at Jack with so much hatred, you were surprised Jack didn't start shaking in his spot. "What the hell did you do to her?"
Jack ignored Dean's question, instead opting to run his fingers up your exposed arm in a loving manner as he gently placed his chin on top of your head. "A friend of yours? Are you sure it isn't more than that?"
"I used to be in love with him.. but I realized he was incapable of loving anyone. Anyone but himself, and his brother." You blinked your eyes up innocently at Jack, and he threw his head back and began to laugh.
Dean's grip clutched tighter on his blade. It was clear that you were possessed by something, this wasn't you speaking, but deep down he knew that it really was. It hurt hearing you so calmly explain how you've fallen out of love with him, how you didn't believe he could ever love you back. He narrowed his eyes at Jack, who seemed to be enjoying the situation far too much for the oldest Winchester's liking.
"Let her go." Dean's voice was dark and threatening, his face steeled as he took a step towards the man holding you captive. Jack tightened his grip on your arms, slowly pushing you so that you were shielding him from Dean. The hunter scowled, knuckles turning white from his death grip on the blade. "Coward." He hissed to Jack as he used you as a human shield.
"How did he find you, doll?" Jack murmured to you sweetly as he tucked your hair behind your ear. You clenched your eyes shut, trying to fight the magic control he had over you, but it was futile.
"I told him to come." You said gently with your eyes closed. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."
Dean watched as you buried your head into Jack's chest in shame. Jack clicked his tongue disapprovingly at you, shaking his head in disappointment. "That's very upsetting to hear, my sweet. Well, you brought him here. You take care of him."
Slowly, your hands reached out to grab the butcher knife that was sitting on the counter. Dean watched as you shakily picked up the blade, his eyes narrowing as you eyed the glistening weapon in wonder. His heart, which had been beating like crazy, slowly began to beat back at a normal pace as he closed his eyes, calming himself.
When Dean opened them, there were tears in your eyes.
"Of course, my love." You told Jack sweetly, taking a step towards Dean. His gaze was hard as he gave Jack a murderous glare, before softening his face as he approached you slowly.
"[your name], everything's going to be alright." He reassured you gently.
Inwardly, you were throwing a fit as Jack controlled your body, making you advance towards Dean with the blade in your hand. You were screaming at him to run- please, please don't be stupid and get yourself hurt because of me. Please, Dean, I need you to help me. I don't want this. I don't want to do this.
You didn't notice the teardrop that slid down your right cheek.
Dean watched as your tear dripped to the floor, and his expression hardened once again.
Suddenly, Dean charged at you and he twisted your wrist, forcing you to drop the blade on the kitchen floor, clattering to the ground loudly. You gasped, taking a step back to regain your balance and clutch at your throbbing wrist. The hunter shoved you to the side, before pouncing at Jack, his blade in his hand as he slammed Jack against the wall.
"Why don't you take care of me, huh?" Dean taunted the smaller man darkly, the sharp edge of his blade digging into Jack's throat. "You've got all the power, right? What, you have to control an innocent girl to do your dirty work?"
Jack was gasping for air, some words of denial tumbling out his mouth, and Dean shoved the blade harder against his throat, blood now dripping down the mans neck.
"I don't want to hear it!" Dean bellowed angrily in his face, spit landing on Jack's cheek. He winced, and Dean delivered a swift punch to his jaw. "What the fuck did you do to her, huh? Tell me, and I'll kill you quickly."
"Why should I-" Jack began, but he was cut off when Dean delivered another punch to the opposite side of his jaw. Jack gurgled, and Dean punched him again, and then again, alternating between cheeks.
You were frozen in the kitchen, back pressed against the refrigerator in fear. In your mind, you were cheering, but you were confused because you've never seen Dean like this. He was like a rabid animal, and it was frightening, but he was here to save you, and you've never felt more relieved in your entire life. Except, maybe, the first time the Winchester's saved you.
"Tell me!" Dean snarled in Jack's face, and the man shook his head in defeat. "Alright- alright! It's the- the ring! The ring- take it off and-"
Dean sliced off the magician's head.
You gasped, feeling the spell wash away from your body now that the magician was dead, and you quickly slid the ring off, throwing it on the ground. Dean froze when he heard the sound of the jewelry clattering against the floor, and he slowly turned around.
You were rubbing your aching wrist as you examined Dean closely. He was breathing hard, face splattered with blood. There was no denying the fact that you were scared shitless; has Dean always been this aggressive? You knew that Dean was strong, that he would do whatever to get the job done. But, he just decapitated a human being, Jack wasn't a vampire or some kind of monster. He was human.
"..Dean?" You said his name gently, eyes swelling with tears.
Dean slowly turned around to face you. The blade was still clenched in his fist, he couldn't force himself to let it go, his blood was still ringing from the violent decapitation. It wanted more, the mark wanted more blood. There were tears in your eyes, and Dean felt a wave of nausea as he realized he just murdered this man viciously in front of you. You were probably so scared of him, there would be no coming back from this-
"Dean.. you," You began, voice choking up. "You came."
Suddenly, Dean found the strength to release the blade from his tight grip, and it fell to the ground with a loud clatter as he took two long strides towards you and engulfed you in his embrace. Your small hands were clutching fistfuls of his dark khaki jacket, your body was shivering against him, and Dean could only hope that he didn't frighten you too badly. His hands ran up and down your back gently, almost frightened to touch you.
"Of course I did," He repeated gently, reassuring you with soft words. "You asked me to, [your name]."
A shudder racked through your body, before you were tearing away from his embrace and placing your hands on your knees, suddenly throwing up all over Jack's expensive carpet. You gagged some more as you recalled how you were forced to make love with him for days, and Dean gently pulled your hair from your face as you threw up again from the memories.
"It's alright, [your name]. You're safe now. Go ahead and let it out."
You straightened back up once you were finished, wiping the back of your hand against your mouth in disgust. You looked at Dean through teary eyes, he looked just as upset as you were feeling. Shaking your head, you tugged on his arm and gestured towards the door.
"Please," You asked him wordlessly. You didn't want to stay inside of this house for a minute longer. Dean wrapped his arm around your bare shoulders as he led you out the house, keeping you warm from the cold early morning air, and he slowly led you to the Impala.
He came. He came. He came.
I'm not alone.
Dean cares about me.
A/N -
Dude, the smut that I have planned for this story is RIDICULOUS. (can you believe that the storyline for this fic was created because I wanted to write some needy!Dean Winchester smut? actually, if you know me as an author, you can probably believe this..) Anyways, the majority of the next chapter is typed out. I was planning on releasing this as one long one-shot, but I feel like if I post one chapter that's like 20,000 words long, nobody will finish the story all the way through.