Waking the Demon

Request for Shri Quinn

"Maybe Demon!Dean said something to the reader about a trait they thought Dean loved and makes crude jokes/remarks about it. When Dean returns as a human though, she curses him out and he apologizes profusely maybe even starts demeaning himself (typical Dean fashion...I think?) and they make up in a fluffy kinda way?"

You let out a sigh as you looked in the mirror, your eyes immediately finding the pale white scar that went across your right shoulder. It was a torture mark from a year back when you'd gotten kidnapped by a demon trying to find any leverage he could against the boys. They got you out, but not without a few wounds and a traumatizing memory.

You hated that scar. It reminded you of being tied to a chair and treated like the demon's personal pet. He did what he pleased to you, which mostly involved cutting and burning your skin. You hated that you had gotten caught so easily, though the boys never got upset at you for it. Still, the whole thing made you feel rather useless.

You were still staring at the scar when Dean came in to check on you. He wrapped his arms around you from behind. You stood there in your bra and pajama pants, getting ready for bed. You'd never been shy around the older Winchester, so his coming in didn't bother you in the least.

"It means nothing," he murmured, resting his head on your shoulder and looking at your reflection. He knew what you were looking at.

"It means I got caught," you corrected.

"It means the demons were smart, and they knew my greatest weakness," he replied, using his hands on your hips to turn you around to face him. "It doesn't make you any less of a hunter, and it doesn't change how I feel about you."

You smiled softly, standing on your toes to press a kiss to his lips. He handed you one of his T-shirts which you slipped over your head with a smirk. You loved wearing his clothes, and he loved to see you wearing them.

You followed him out of the bathroom and onto his bed, which you were sharing. Sam was already asleep, so you had control over the TV. Dean flipped through the channels and found your favorite, setting the remote aside and lying back against the pillows. You snuggled into his side, resting your head on his chest, your scar forgotten for the time being.

Two weeks later, you were a mess.

Dean had died and become a demon, and you weren't sure how to deal with it. Initially, he still acted like Dean. But soon after, you realized that it wasn't your Dean anymore.

You and Sam thought Dean was gone. You found his dead body on the side of the road, having been hit by a car. You didn't see anyone else around, so you and Sam set him in the backseat of Baby and drove back to the bunker. It was weird, lugging around a dead body, but neither of you had the heart to let him go. At the very least, he deserved a hunter's funeral.

You were overjoyed when he woke up a few days later, clearly not dead. Sam was cautious, and you were both confused, but you didn't care. Dean was back.

The day after he woke up, he was different. It was like someone had flipped a switch and turned on "Emotionless Mode." He didn't say nice things. He seemed to say the first thing that came to mind, and he didn't care what kind of hurtful expressions crossed your face or Sam's in response. He would simply shrug and head back to his room.

You were changing in your bedroom, alone. You'd closed the door so Sam didn't accidentally walk in on you – and you were kind of avoiding Dean. He'd been weird lately, and you didn't think you could handle being around him.

You'd just slipped off your shirt and looking at your scar when the door opened. Out of habit, you pulled your shirt up to cover your bra, turning to see your intruder. Your brows furrowed when it was Dean. "Haven't you heard of knocking?"

He raised a brow and stepped inside, not bothering to close the door. "I have to knock to see my own girlfriend?"

You let your shirt fall to the floor. Even if Dean was weird, he'd seen you naked before, so it wasn't new. "You do when you've been a jerk to her for a week."

He shrugged it off. Nothing seemed to affect him anymore. He just didn't care. He watched you in the mirror, watching how your gaze found the scar on your shoulder. "Where'd you get that?"

Your face contorted in confusion. "You know where I got it."

Monotone, he replied, "Enlighten me."

You sighed. "You know I hate talking about it, Dean."

"Please?" Even his manners needed manners.

"I got kidnapped, remember? Some demons took me to try and get to you and Sam. It took you a while to find me, so they tied me up and… hurt me."

He nodded. "Right. You got kidnapped because you're a bad hunter."

You spun on your heel to face him, mouth agape. "Excuse me?"

He shrugged. "You're a bad hunter," he repeated. "Isn't that how people get kidnapped? They don't know what they're doing?"

"They knocked me out in the middle of the night when I was on a food run for you and your brother," you reminded. "It had nothing to do with my hunting skills."

"If you were a capable hunter, you would have heard the demons coming."

"If I was psychic, I would have heard the demons coming," you countered. "Don't act like you've never been knocked out and tied down. I've had to save your ass, too."

He stared at you. "I don't know what I ever saw in you. You're annoying. Annoying and a bad hunter."

Tears welled up in your eyes as he turned to leave. Turning over his shoulder, he said, "Consider us broken up."

You fell to your knees, sobs shaking your body. This wasn't Dean.

Over the next month, Sam found out that his brother had been turned into a demon. You were furious, both at Dean himself and at the situation. You spent the next month finding a cure. He remembered when they tried to humanize Crowley by injecting him with human blood, and that it began working before he escaped. You both found Dean and managed to lock him up in the bunker, taking turns drawing your own blood to inject him.

A few weeks later, he was finally cured. You were in your room, once again looking at your scar. It had so many memories attached to it now. You'd left the door open, not caring anymore. You didn't turn to look when familiar footsteps padded across your shag carpet.

"(y/n)," Dean's gruff voice greeted you.

"Dean," you replied, trying to be emotionless.

He let out a sigh. "I'm sorry."

"For?"

"For everything," he replied. "I'm sorry I was a jerk. I'm sorry I called you a bad hunter. I'm sorry I got turned into a demon."

You turned to look at him. "Do you have any idea what that did to me?"

He simply stared, remorse in his emerald eyes.

"I've degraded myself and questioned my skills as a hunter ever since I got kidnapped," you explained, your voice cracking. "Every time I even looked at it, you would tell me that it didn't mean anything. You would tell me that hunters make mistakes and sometimes demons are smart. You would tell me that I only got kidnapped because they wanted to get to you, and you would tell me that it didn't change how good of a hunter I was or how you felt about me."

He looked down in shame, turning to leave.

"And then you died. Sam and I… We thought that was it. We thought you were gone. Then you woke up, and I didn't even care how you survived. All that mattered was that you did." You began pacing back and forth, running a hand through your hair. "You were different. You were distant… and mean. It was like you didn't care about anything; about me. And then… not only did you call me a bad hunter, but you called me annoying. You told me that you didn't know what you saw in me, and you told me that we were done." Tears flowed freely down your face when you finished. "Do you have any idea how that feels?"

He looked sadly at his boots. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I don't… I don't deserve you, (y/n)."

You didn't let him leave. Overwhelmed with a mix of emotions, you rushed forward, throwing your arms around his neck. He was stunned by the contact but wrapped his arms around your back.

"I don't know if I can trust you…" you whispered into his chest.

He nodded. "I'm sorry."

You pulled back and looked up at him. "But… I still love you. I can't just let you go, not after everything we did to get you back."

"I didn't deserve that, either," he murmured.

You rested your hands on either side of his face. "I need my Dean back. Okay? Can I have my Dean back?"

He smiled. "You can always have your Dean back."

You stood on your toes to kiss him, which he responded to. His hands rested lightly on your hips, giving you the option to pull away. You sighed softly against his lips, pulling him closer.