Don't get too close...

It's dark inside...

It's where my demons hide...

She wasn't sure what woke her up in the middle of the night. The bunker was quiet, and according to Sam, nothing evil could invade the safety of its walls, so it was absolutely safe as well. So she didn't have an idea as to what made her feel so alert and wide awake. With the intention of calming down her nerves a bit, she got up from her bed to walk to the kitchen to get some milk.

She didn't get very far.

She could hear sounds of struggle coming from inside the room in front of hers. Dean… He was fighting and struggling against something evil inside his room. She heard him growl and grunt as if he was in anguish. Her hunters' instinct kicking in, she rushed inside hoping to aid him in ridding of whatever assailant he was fighting.

She stood in the middle of the room, staring at Dean's writhing form on the bed. The room was empty, except for the two of them, which was a blessed thing, considering she had stupidly charged in without even a weapon in hand, and just clad in her flimsy tank top and sleeping shorts in her rush to get to Dean. If there had been some monster in his room, she'd most likely be lying on the floor dead right about now.

To say there really wasn't a monster would have been a lie though. He was fighting something vicious, and just because she couldn't see it doesn't mean it wasn't there. He was having one hell of a nightmare, and Y/N wondered what demons could be torturing Dean in his sleep, making him groan and writhe in so much pain and anguish.

She stepped closer, and laid a gentle hand on his heaving chest. "Dean, wake up. It's just a nightmare," she whispered.

A guttural sound escaped his throat as he lashed out and instinctively tackled her, rolling her underneath him in a position of submission. His eyes were open now, except they weren't really seeing her. They were wild and frantic, his brow furrowed in anger. He was still in the middle of whatever nightmare he'd been seeing, and he thought she was the enemy he had been fighting.

His hands tightened around her throat, big and strong, spanning easily around her fragile neck. She knew she should be struggling, or doing something to fight him off, but she couldn't. She stared back at him, completely transfixed by the expression on his face. Oh Dean, she sighed inside, and tears sprang to her eyes. She told herself it was because his grip had tightened even more and she was finding it harder to breathe, but in truth, seeing him like this, in so much unmanageable pain, it broke her too. He had been the warrior who always fought demons and evil sons of bitches out there that no one even knew existed. And here he was now, fighting things within himself, destroying him from inside, and he didn't know reality from hallucination.

She tried to push him off her, but his body pressed hers down to the mattress with his heavy weight. Six feet and 190 pounds of muscle and man had her in a vice-like grip. She was starting to see spots. "Dean, it's me," she croaked. She had to get through to him. She didn't want to die, not like this. She didn't want him to be the one haunted by her blood on his hands for the rest of his life. And also, she just didn't want to die. Period.

Y/N saw the glazed hazy look lift from Dean's eyes, a fraction of a second before Sam burst in with a gun in his hand.

Sam had been sleeping quite peacefully, as peaceful as his sleep could ever get lately, when the guttural screams coming from down the hall had him wide awake and sprinting in that direction. He didn't know who or what was attacking his brother, but he knew that whatever it was, they weren't leaving the bunker alive. Not if Dean could help it, and definitely not if Sam could help it.

The sight that he saw upon bursting into Dean's room had him confused, that he forgot to drop the gun. Y/N was lying underneath Dean, and for a moment Sam thought he'd walked in on something he just did not want to see – his brother getting his frisky on. But then he saw that they were both clothed and Dean's hands were around her throat, strangling her to death. It didn't look like foreplay. It looked he was literally killing her with his bare hands!

Hearing Sam's entrance, Dean's attention shifted, and he jumped off her, and off the bed, to attack the intruder. Seeing it was just his brother, he visibly relaxed.

"What the hell is going on?!" Sam yelled walking towards Y/N, as Dean leaned against the wall, trying to get further away from them as he could.

She got up from the bed, gently rubbing her neck. She'd probably have to wear scarves or turtlenecks for a couple of days. Dean watched her warily from afar, noticing her subtle actions. Already regret was contorting his features. Great, Y/N thought. Now she had two wary Winchesters in her hands. "Dean was having a nightmare. I was just trying to wake him up," she told Sam.

"Are you alright?" he asked her. She simply shrugged in an affirmative. In the brief glance that passed, it was established that she most definitely was not alright, but neither of them wanted to discuss it in front of Dean. Sam turned to his brother. "You okay?"

She watched his swallow, and his Adam's apple bobbed visibly. He was tense. "Yeah," he mumbled, finding his way to the bed and sitting down, his face burrowed in his hands. "I'm fine." He was not.

Y/N plastered an overly cheerful smile on her face. "See! He's okay," she said, pushing a confused Sam Winchester out of the room. "He's fine, and I got this okay?"

Outside, Sam simply stared at her in disbelief. "He is not fine, damn it!" he whispered furiously, trying to keep his voice law so that Dean wouldn't hear. "And you definitely do not 'got this,' Y/N!"

She shushed him, closing the door behind her halfway. "Let me handle this, Sammy," she whispered back.

Sam couldn't resist her imploring eyes. If Dean thought Sam's 'puppy dog eyes' were effective, Y/N's was a killer. It was spot on and irresistible. He nodded. "Alright then. Just be careful, okay?"

She watched his tense retreating back for a moment longer and then slowly stepped into Dean's room once more. He was in the middle of getting back into his bed when he tensed up upon her entrance. She closed the door, earning a questioning glance from him.

"This is going to sound redundant," he said, pulling up the covers over him. "But I am sorry I almost killed you."

Even in the gravity of what almost happened, a giggle escaped her lips. "I'm glad you didn't." She smiled down at him, laying a hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscles tense upon her touch. It felt like she was tucking in a little child. Dean looked so hopeless and helpless, lost in the fading embers of his nightmare. "Get some sleep, Dean."

He closed his eyes, knowing he'd hear the click of the door when she left. Until then, he chose to keep the regret at bay, for it was waiting to swallow him whole. What have I done, bringing her into my life? Movement next to him had him opening his eyes in disbelief. He turned to his side to find Y/N getting into bed and tucking the covers over her. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked her. "You can't stay here!"

"What?" she blinked at him as if he was being ridiculous. "It's not like you are going to need the whole bed to yourself. I promise not to hog the covers." She knew she was taking a risk by choosing to lie next to him, when clearly the Mark was turning him into something else entirely. She knew he could hurt her without even knowing it. She couldn't bring herself to leave. This was Dean, damn it. She'd lived pretty much half her life away from him when she should have been right by his side. Promises were meant to be more than just words. They were meant to be kept. She wasn't leaving him alone. Not now, not ever.

"Y/N," he whispered, with a pained look on his face, silently asking her, begging her, to let him be.

"Go to sleep, Dean," she instructed him, a little sternly. Then gentling her voice, she said, "I'll wake you up if you start acting up again, okay?"

"Before or after I kill you?"

"Hopefully, before," she chuckled, and Dean couldn't understand how she could find humor in a moment like this.

They lied there, silently, both of them pretending not to be awake, but neither of them succumbing to sleep. He didn't understand her. He didn't understand her at all. She made him feel like all she ever wanted was to get away from him, when all he had wanted since they reconnected was to get close to her, like they always had been. Yet, here she was now, sleeping next to him after he tried to freaking kill her in his sleep. Here she was now as if he hadn't hurt her, as if those twenty years apart hadn't even happened. It felt wrong that it was this easy to fall back into line, that they could be just as they once were, so easily, and effortlessly. Then again, at the same time, it felt like the easiest thing in the world.

I want to hide the truth, I want to shelter you…

"I don't want to hurt you, Y/N," he whispered into the darkness, thinking she was asleep. She wasn't. He heard her shift to face him, so he turned to look at her.

But with the beast inside, there's nowhere we can hide…

"Then don't," she said, reaching out and gently cupping his cheek, his stubble pricking her palm. Instinctively, he leaned into her touch.

When you feel my heat, look into my eyes…It's where my demons hide…

"Whatever demons you got inside, tormenting you, just know that I'm here too, Dean," she told him softly. "I'm right here, next to you." She closed her eyes in regret and Dean knew she was thinking back to all the times she hadn't been there.

Don't get too close, it's dark inside. It's where my demons hide…

He never blamed her. In a way, he was glad that she had missed all the crap that had befallen his miserable life. He was most definitely glad she hadn't known him when he was a demon, running rampant with onyx eyes, killing people. "I should have been there for you," she continued, even as he tried to protest. She shushed him, as bossy as always, bringing a reluctant smile to his lips. "Let me do this for you now, at least."

He nodded, knowing she had him, knowing he wasn't even going to think of resisting her. "Good night, Y/N," he said, half praying to whoever was listening to keep the nightmares at bay for the rest of the night. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted. He closed his eyes, letting a sense of peace wash over him for however long it lasted. Feeling her settle in next to him, Dean fell asleep.

He really had grown up to be one handsome devil, with lashes longer than any man should ever be blessed with and a jaw that seemed to be carved to perfection, she thought, smiling to herself. She watched his face, now relaxed in his sleep. Hearing the deep fall and rise of his chest, she knew he was finally resting. Weren't we supposed to find peace from our tormented lives at least when we slept? She wondered, sadly. And yet, demons had him in their vice like grip even then. Whatever demons they were, she swore to herself that she wouldn't let him go. She would stand by him, whatever happened. "To hell and back, Dean," she whispered though he couldn't hear her, remembering their little childlike promise from days so long ago. She laid a swift gentle kiss on his prickly cheek. "Forever and always."

Your eyes, they shine so bright,
I wanna save that light...
I can't escape this now,
Unless you show me how...

When you feel my heat,
Look into my eyes.
It's where my demons hide...

Don't get too close,
It's dark inside,
It's where my demons hide...

It's where my demons hide...