Ain't No Sunshine
"Meredith?! Meredith!"
Her eyes were glazed over, but she wasn't fading— there were tears of pain leaking from the sides, trailing down across pale cheeks, and her lips pursed as she tried to hold her gasps in.
Seth watched in dismay as Dean rocked her in his arms. He couldn't believe what was happening. He didn't want to believe it. Part of him— part of him wasn't even surprised. How could he think that? It was true, though. He'd expected one of them to die, but none of them had, and now someone— now Meredith was taking their place. And Dean… Dean was never going to love again if she died. He was never going to be the same, he'd never have that brief glint of happiness in his eyes.
"Meredith, Meredith, c'mon," Dean said again, his eyes scrunched as he stared down at the mechanic, "please, please— just breathe, okay? I know it hurts, fuck— I know how much it hurts, but you just gotta breathe, okay?"
But she was short of breath, wheezing, and Seth knew without even having to be told that the bullet had punctured a lung. It had gone right through her chest. Right where her heart was.
And Dean looked like his whole world was falling apart in front of his eyes.
"Dean— Dean—"
"I'm here, I'm not goin' anywhere."
Seth felt like he was intruding. The words were so intimate that he wanted to walk away, but he couldn't. His eyes lifted to where Heyman was standing open mouthed and almost felt like the walrus was the picture perfect reaction, but he knew the man didn't really care for Meredith like they did.
He was walking before he could stop himself, his movements drawing Heyman's attention. "You've got the throne now, Paul," Seth said evenly. "What's your call? Get a doctor or let her die?"
Ugly hazel eyes shifted from where Dean was haunched over Meredith to where Seth had left Jamie Noble standing. Then Paul Heyman raised his chin. "Mr Noble, find Sister Abigail and send her out here. I want my Beast, too."
"Yes, Sir."
The short and scrawny Southern man scurried off in the direction of the caves and disappeared into the shadows, and once more Seth's eyes were drawn back to where Meredith was laying in Dean's arms. In the echoey pit, it was hard not to hear every single word whispered between them.
"You promised me, you promised me, Meredith, you promised that you weren't going anywhere, that you wouldn't leave me, so don't you dare break that promise, you hear me?"
Dean was crying. Tears streaming down across his cheeks and falling past his scruffy, swollen jaw. Dripping right onto her shirt. She was struggling to breathe. Coughing and wheezing out blood in a fine mist, and she must have been in so much pain— but no, she wouldn't feel it. Seth had been shot before. It wasn't a burning pain. It was like his veins had turned to ice.
"I can't— I can't," whispered Meredith, "I'm sorry— I'm so sorry…"
"Don't, don't you dare."
Seth turned his head and closed his eyes, dragged a hand down his face. Fuck.
When he opened them, he wasn't surprised to see a group of people approaching from the tunnels. Roman, covered in bruises and blood, some of it his, some of it not, Lesnar, the Wyatt siblings. Of course Bray would come out with her, Seth thought bitterly. Dean wouldn't let Meredith go with Bray around.
Roman's face pulled at the sight of Dean crumpled on the ground.
There was a slight tug to the corner of Abigail's mouth, and despite the threatening Wyatt twin watching over everyone like a hawk, he bared his teeth at her.
"Don't leave me, Mer, don't let me drown here without you, I can't do this without you, please, please, please, I can't," and as Dean finished, Meredith's eyes slid shut.
"We won't drown," she barely whispered, "we're not gonna drown. I promise. You can survive this. You don't need me, you're strong enough for the both of us. Be brave. For us."
Meredith was stunning, even in death, and Seth felt his own heart tug. The woman who'd selflessly thrown herself into this battle had taken a bullet intended for each of them like she'd meant to do it all along. She hadn't. But then, she had.
"Meredith," whispered Dean, and his chin quivered as he placed his forehead against hers. "I promise…"
Sister Abigail crouched next to where they were, but she didn't dare reach out a hand to try and coax her from his arms. He would much sooner slit her throat than let her take Meredith from him, and Seth knew that without even having to look him in the eyes.
Still, when she reached out a hand, his own shot out and fingers curled around her wrist, his face turning into an ugly, broken snarl, eyes finally shifting from the mechanic. Her eyes became more angry than anything else.
"I know you could never trust me," Abigail hissed at him, "but if you want her to live, I am her best chance at survival."
"Dean," Bray said, almost songlike, and Seth felt a shiver crawl down his spine at the tone, "if you hurt my sister—" he broke off, but the unspoken threat was loud and clear.
The feral look never left Dean's eyes.
"Bray."
Her voice was soft but commanding, and when the man glided to where they sat and kneeled, his arms reaching under Meredith's body, Dean didn't fight it. The transition was easy and with the way Meredith's head fell back limply, it was obvious the woman had lost consciousness. Seth frowned as he watched the siblings walk away with Meredith.
And even when they'd disappeared into the shadows— Dean was sat on the ground staring into the empty space that Meredith had once occupied. Like he was trying to figure out why.
"What happened?"
Roman stood next to him now, frown etched so deep into his face. "Helmsley shot her," was his almost silent reply, but it was like Dean had heard anyway.
His head snapped up and then around to where Triple H was kneeled, and there was a moment of stillness that swept through the pit as Dean locked his eyes onto Hunter's, as Dean stared down the smirking man who was obviously proud of what he'd done, and like comparing black and white, Dean was in a million pieces.
Numb.
But Seth knew that storm swirling in his eyes.
Even broken, Ambrose still moved like lightening.
"Dean, no!"
Seth dashed forward and looped his arms through Dean's, and the other man almost lifted off the ground in momentum as Seth anchored his feet into the dirt. There was a pop, another one, and Seth cried out as he fell to the dust— his fucking knee was screaming at him, screaming in pain, and without a doubt he knew he'd torn something.
A solid foot was braced against his chest and as he looked up, he realised Dean hadn't moved an inch. "I'm going to kill you," the broken man almost whispered, still loud enough that Triple H could hear him. "I'm going to fucking kill you."
And Seth knew. He knew that Ambrose was going to make good on that promise.
Nobody fucked with him and got away with it.
XxX
Every whispered and intimate promise like an echo, floating neither here nor there, coming from nowhere but staying everywhere, back and forth and to and from.
It felt like winter. Time blurred into nothing, lights turning hot, lights turning to sun, a nonexistent form of remembering what used to be, and sometimes it was dark and sometimes it wasn't, but there was an energy that seeped into a dying bloodstream. It was enough.
Enough for the whispers.
I don't want to be the reason that you die…
I'm not going anywhere.
You're never leaving me, you understand?
Not going anywhere.
I'll come back to you.
Come back to me.
I promise.
I promise.
I promise.
Don't let me drown.
We won't drown.
I promise.
It had been almost a week and a half. She didn't know whether she expected him to come back or not.
Yet when he walked through that door, when his slate blue eyes locked on hers, this sense of relief and utter happiness coursed through her veins. Showed on her face, too.
Around the cut under his left eye, the skin was discoloured, black and blue and yellow, and his shoulder was heavily strapped. But he still stood there. Leather jacket, dark jeans, black top. The same man that had kissed her, living and breathing the same air that she was breathing.
"Dean…" it was almost like a whisper but it was there, and the hesitant grin that formed across his lips was enough for Meredith.
The first step forward was strong, the second more so, but the closer she got, the more anxious she became. Would he let her hug him? Would he be okay with that? So instead, she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and glanced over her shoulder.
"I, uh," she was louder this time, so he could hear her properly, "I cooked some lasagna a few nights ago. I—I didn't know… when you'd be back. But I hoped… I, uh— I saved some. For you."
When she finally lifted her dark eyes to glance sheepishly at him, the smile on his lips hadn't moved. He let the bag drop from his good shoulder. And then met her halfway when she finally sprinted at him, throwing her arms around his neck as his slipped around her waist.
Meredith's fingers tangled through his hair and she felt his sigh against her neck, felt tears prick at the back of her eyes. They hadn't known each other long, maybe four days at most, but being here, being in his arms?
It felt like home. Safety.
"Look, Meredith," Dean said lowly. "I know that you know this… but if you're coming with me, you know that whatever's waiting for you won't be nice. I don't know what they want from me, I don't know what they want from you, I don't know what the fuck is going on, but the only thing I know is that you need to get out of this alive."
She opened her mouth, ready to pour out words that would get her opinion across, but Dean just shook his head. "No, no, you listen to me, Meredith. These people will kill you if I don't do what they want, okay? I don't fuckin' care what they do to me but if they so much as look at you the wrong way, they won't like the reaction. So the first fuckin' chance you get, get out. I'm done having people I love taken away from me, I'm done losing."
"Dean…" Meredith paused, her lips pulled down. She had a million things to say and couldn't find the words to say them with. "I— I— don't act like you're alone anymore, Dean, I'm not going anywhere…"
"They will kill you!"
The pull inside of her chest was real when his voice raised and broke. Dean dragged a hand down his mouth and took in a deep breath, looked out his window to calm himself.
It was like a hurricane meeting a mountain. Dean was spinning, out of control, a constant state of confusion and rage and momentary calm, and as much destruction as he caused, there was no way he could move the mountain; Meredith's stability, her grounded, equalised approach to what was thrown in her path. She wanted to be the one to end that anger, he didn't want to drag her into his mess or destroy her.
Silence filled the space between them.
"I don't want to be the reason that you die."
Meredith had been trying to smooth down his hair for the past twenty minutes.
He hadn't been able to sleep, hand't been able to shut his eyes without imagining the kind of ways Kane would torture him next. Kane— Dean hadn't seen the demon since he left the man in a pool of his own blood.
The beautiful woman behind him was leaning against the wall and his head was laid in her lap, caramel eyes staring down into his. "You didn't get much sleep."
A tired smile was his only response.
It hadn't worked. She remembered nothing.
"Dean…" Meredith breathed almost out of instinct, and then his face was split in half by a smile and she knew. His name was Dean.
His arm curled around her waist, body flush against his, her arms moving from between their bodies to lace one around the back of his neck, the other twisting into dirty blonde curls. Mouth so close to hers but not touching, Meredith could feel his quickened breath. "Meredith…" her name was like a question on the end of his tongue. He was— he was asking if it was okay to kiss her again.
She'd barely managed a nod when his lips were pressing onto hers.
Mouth soft, stubble scratching against her cheek, but the kiss was almost feverish and Dean was kissing her with such force it was almost winding. His tongue slid along hers, twisted over and under and there was a faint taste of blood and like a wave crashing onto her body she couldn't breathe anymore.
He pulled back again, but his lips lingered on hers, touching softly as their breaths mingled. Meredith's eyes slid open, caramel brown on slate blue, both half-lidded, both clouded.
She remembered everything.
A smile curved across his cheeks again and Dean found himself burying his head into her hair, her neck, arms holding her body against his and not willing to let go.
"Dean," she was breathing into his hair, "it's okay, we're okay, I'm okay…"
"You're never leaving me, you understand?"
He wouldn't be able to survive that.
She knew what he meant, gently ran her fingers through his messy hair. "Not going anywhere."
"You come back to me, okay?" Meredith breathed shakily into his chest. "I don't care how you do it, you just come back to me."
He pressed a kiss to her hair. "I promise."
She deflated when she heard how hollow it sounded and Dean knew right away that she hadn't expected anything else.
Meredith turned her nose against his chest, pressed her ear to where his heart was beating beneath scarred skin. His calloused hand traced along the material over her arm and even through it, he could feel her skin raising under the feathery touch. But then he moved it up and curled his fingers around her chin. Gently, he tilted her chin up until caramel was staring into slate blue and his eyes were burning, hers wide and— he saw the want swirl through them.
His hand shifted to grip the back of her neck. "I'll come back to you," he whispered. "I promise."
And then he was kissing her, pressing his lips into hers, wrapping a strong arm around her waist to keep her close. Another "I promise" was breathed into her mouth and she shifted on him, threw her legs over his so she was straddling him, deepening the kiss. A groan sounded at the back of his throat as she twisted her hands through his hair, tugging unapologetically, and the grip of his hands on her waist was bruising.
But just as quick as it had started, the embrace turned into a tight hug, Meredith pressing her face into his neck and breathing out shakily and she held him.
He never wanted to let go.
—
Every memory like it was tearing him apart from the inside out, every moment, every smile, every caught stare.
She had to live.
soo... who's crying? not me. it's you, you're crying. next chapter is the last one, hopefully i'll get it out by weekend :) the concept of the last part of this chapter is the whole 'memory flashing before your eyes thing' just before you die. a lot of this chapter is flashbacks, but hopefully it fits in well.
to Nangel4 (yeah, I missed your comment :(! that's okay tho, you're back now :) you always say such kind things about my writing, thank you so much!), NoN (somehow, I don't think I'm sadistic enough to end it on a bad note... but thank you for the words!), and quinzel harley (did u cry? bet u cried... ofc i'll end it with justice, i'm writing about the hounds of justice after all *cries even more*), thank you so much for your reviews and let me know what you thought of this chapter!
much love xx
