Part 2 of Chapter 3

You folded the knife, satisfied with the fresh cuts on your hip. It had been years since you last cut yourself. Dean was the only one in your life that knew. He found out one night after a werewolf hunt. It was before you and Dean were dating.

THEN

The plan was for you and Sam to circle around to one side of the cabin that you had tracked the werewolf to and Dean would take the other side. You had caught the werewolf in your sights before it noticed you. You motioned to Sam to get his attention in case you missed. It hadn't taken just any victims, this werewolf liked kids. You thought about the five victims that you knew about as you pulled the trigger. There was no sympathy for this monster, not even from Sam—the poster boy for grey areas and mercy. You didn't miss and watched your target drop before turning to Sam with a smile.

Sam returned your smile and clapped a hand on your shoulder. "Nice shot, Y/N." And it really was a great shot from this distance. Dean and Sam were impressed with your long range shooting skills. It meant that they worried about you a little less on hunts and it had also saved them a few times when you were covering them from behind.

Suddenly, Sam's face melted from pride and relief to horror. "Y/N! Watch out!" He grabbed your other shoulder and threw you aside. Sam was screaming and you pushed yourself up as fast as you could to help. You'd dropped the gun when Sam tossed you and it was lost in the surrounding leaves. Grabbing your silver knife, you cursed yourself. It was a stupid mistake, you had assumed it was just one werewolf instead of a couple. Sam was getting mauled and you had no clear shot to its heart. Instead, you just said a prayer before you jumped on its back and started stabbing.

It yelped and threw you off like you were nothing. Sam wasn't moving and all of the creature's rage was directed at you as it lunged at you. It dug its claws into you cruelly and you cried out for Dean repeatedly. You hoped he could hear you shout at this distance or would pick up on the fact neither you nor Sam had met up with him yet. He had to have heard the gunshot, you were sure about that much. You struggled to defend yourself and reach its heart with your knife at the same time as it slashed and snapped at you. It was a lot easier as a concept in your head than it was in reality. "DEAN!"

"HEY!" You heard his voice a moment later. Dean caught the werewolf's attention not at all too soon. "Get the hell off of her!" It came out as a low, threatening snarl before he emptied a clip into the thing's chest. Dean ran over to you and began checking you over.

"Just scratches. M'fine." You gritted your teeth and groaned as you sat up. "Sam..."

Dean followed your gaze and rushed over to his brother. "Sammy?" Dean tried to get him to respond as you painfully limped over with the help of a fallen branch. "No bites, but he's losing blood…" You saw Dean slip on the mask he wore when he was scared. His eyes darted back and forth as he was trying to form a plan. "Ok, um…"

"I can walk. Get him into the cabin, hopefully there's a first aid kit. I'll start fixing him up while you get the car." It was odd. Your thoughts were never clearer than when Dean or Sam were in danger. In the back of your mind, you knew this would become one more nightmare. You would panic and cry about it later in secret. That was the price you paid for these moments of calm, cool rationality in the midst of danger.

Dean did as you said. You'd managed to do enough triage in the cabin and the back of the impala to get Sam back to the bunker where Dean and Cass could take care of the rest. Dean nodded when you said you were going to get cleaned up before he took care of any stitches or bandaging.

You saw your reflection in the mirror and noted that you were covered in slightly less blood than Carrie. You were pretty sure most of it belonged to Sam and the werewolf. Removing your clothing was proving to be difficult and agonizing. Between the pain and your trembling fingers, you decided just to cut it all off before stepping into the shower.

It felt good to get the crusted blood off of your skin and out of your hair. You frowned when you noticed the water never quite ran clear. The werewolf had mostly focused on your arms while you defended yourself and it had used your right leg as a scratching post. The water stung at your back as well and you wondered when the damn thing had tried to rip out your spine in the struggle.

You gingerly walked to your room in a towel, your clothes were trash now. Pain meds and sleep sounded amazing right now. You pulled on some pajama shorts and a tank top you didn't mind ruining with blood and ointments. Dean knocked on your door as you were on the edge of sleep. "Dean?" You groaned and moved sluggishly.

"Hey… Sam's out, but he's gonna be fine." He knew what your first question would be. He sat on the bed with a first aid kit next to you. "Geez, Y/N… It really did a number on you too…" His eyes swept over your body.

You chuckled. "I don't wanna die without any scars. Besides…" You sucked in a breath as you sat on the edge of the bed. "Sammy got it worse. I'd be dead if he didn't push me out of the way." Dean began working on your arms skillfully. "Sorry Dean. I should've double checked. I thought there was just one. And I shouldn't have let my guard down so it could get the jump on us."

Dean paused and met your eyes for a moment. "Hey, this isn't just on you. Sammy and I made the same mistakes. You're both fine and that's what matters." He finished bandaging your arms quickly and began working on your leg. "Your shin should be ok." Dean reached for a needle and thread. "But your thigh is pretty bad."

You were afraid you'd need stitches, even though you had pretty much figured it out already. "Let's just get this over with. Turn around." The claw marks worked their way up your thigh and onto your hip. Nudity during a patch up wasn't a new thing, but there was an unspoken policy about preserving dignity when it was an option. You exchanged the shorts for a pair of normally impractical underwear that tied into a bow on the sides for... easy access… Not that you'd been on a date recently. Hunting with the Winchesters had taken over your life now. You used the blanket to cover as much as you could and told Dean he could turn back around.

Dean started just above your knee and worked his way up. He knew that even though you pretended to be tough, you hated stitches. So he spoke to you softly to distract you while you closed your eyes and focused on keeping still. If you had a happy place, you supposed this would be when you went there. "I caught a glimpse of the werewolf in the cabin. I doubt Sammy could've made that shot. We would've been screwed if we had to deal with two at once." You let out a hiss of pain as your focus slipped into the land of 'what if.' "You're doing great Y/N. I'm almost done…" Dean stopped and you felt his fingers graze your hip. "Y/N…"

"Done?"

"Uh… not quite." Dean quietly finished stitching you up. After a few moments he let you know he was done and you opened your eyes. His green eyes felt like they were burning through you. "Y/N… these aren't from a werewolf…" His gaze traveled down to your hip. The delicate cuts and scars from your knife were very different that the jagged claw marks the werewolf had left you as a gift. Shit.

You threw the blanket over your right leg and scooted away from him. "It's nothing. I'm fine." The sudden movement had a new wave of pain washing over you. You expected just about anything other than what happened next.

Dean sat quietly for a moment before speaking softly. "No, you're not." You felt his weight shift on the bed and his arms wrapped around you. "You don't have to tell me why if you don't want to. Hell, there are about a thousand reasons why with this job." Dean lifted your chin to meet his eyes. His face was inches from your's. "But it needs to stop." His eyes still held the fire they did before but they were full of sadness too. "I—you're... important to me Y/N." He swallowed. "Next time, talk to me instead of picking up a knife. Ok?" He rubbed your shoulder and waited for an answer.

Tears were threatening to fall. He saw this dark part of you that you'd kept hidden so well. Dean didn't judge you, he didn't lecture you and threaten to tell Sam and Cass. Instead he held you and gave you an option to trust him. You nodded in a silent agreement. This was the night things had begun to shift between the two of you.

You trusted him more afterwards and it was only a couple days until you found yourself walking to his room in the middle of the night. It was almost an unconscious move. You knew it was a matter of time until the werewolf hunt took its toll. Panic, fear, and darkness threatened to take over until you remembered Dean. It was dark and everyone was asleep in the bunker as you made your way to his room. He didn't stir as you stood over him. Your voice broke as you softly said his name and he was instantly alert.

Dean was instantly upright and turned on the light beside his bed. "Y/N…?" He took a moment to assess the situation. Dean automatically checked for danger and then moved to check you over. "What the… Y/N!" Something clattered across the floor and you were in his arms in an instant. Over his shoulder you noticed your knife on the floor. You didn't realize that you'd still had it in your hands.

Dean held you and eased you down onto the bed. Everything was hitting you at once in full force now. You could barely breathe and trembled as panic set in. The silent tears turned into sobs and you wished desperately for release or a distraction. You would do anything to kill the onslaught that was coming.

He shifted you and held you from behind. You felt the rise and fall of his chest as well as a low vibration and you knew he was saying something you couldn't hear over the roar in your ears. Dean ran a hand over your head and through your hair in a gentle, calming manner. After a few minutes his voice came back into focus.

"…Out. With me, ok? Breathe in… and out." His voice was low and controlled as he tried to ground you and bring you back. "Come on, Y/N. You've got this. You're ok, I've got you."

Dean continued to help you breathe. You struggled to match his breathing and he noticed. "That's it, Y/N. Now keep breathing with me. Focus on me." After what felt like an eternity, your breathing evened out and you were calm enough that Dean went to get you a glass of water.

You gratefully took it with shaking hands. "Slowly, Y/N." Dean watched you carefully and gave you a moment before you handed him the glass. "Do you want to talk about it?" He watched as your eyes glazed for a moment and you were about ready to relive whatever fresh horror your mind had conjured. He gripped your arms tightly to ground you. "It's ok Y/N. You don't have to tell me. It's ok. It's over."

You nodded you head shakily and moved to get up. You were increasingly aware of how unhinged you'd come in front of Dean and the idea mortified you. He stood and put a firm hand on your shoulder. "You're not going anywhere. I'll sleep… I don't know, I'll sleep in the chair. But I'm not going to leave you alone."

"I-" You cleared your throat after a moment. Your voice was reduced to a whisper. "I don't mind sharing the bed." You trusted Dean with your life and your secrets. You doubted he would ever take advantage of you, even if he was interested.

You were awake before Dean the next morning and all you could think about was a shower, breakfast, and something for a headache. You were so focused on ninja-ing yourself out of Dean's room without waking him up that you didn't see Sam walking gingerly towards you in the hallway.

He was a mess of cuts and bruises, but it was good to see him up and walking around. Sam saw you and smiled from ear to ear with an attempt at a chuckle before pain cut through.

"What?" You looked at him, puzzled.

His eyes flicked to Dean's door. "You two, huh?"

You gave Sam a shocked look as you struggled to find words to explain the situation. It was bad enough that Dean knew, you didn't want Sam to know how weak you were. "Well, Sam, it's… I don't know—" You felt an arm wrap around your waist and Dean drew you close.

"Mornin' babe." You were shocked when Dean quickly kissed you on the cheek and smiled. "What do you want for breakfast Sam?" He held you as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Sam focused his attentions on Dean and you were glad to be out of the spotlight. "About time." He smiled at Dean. "Pancakes sound good right now. I think I can keep down a few." Sam barely ate during the last few days. The painkillers made him nauseous. Unfortunately, the less he ate, the sicker he felt.

"Pancakes coming right up." Dean grinned. He had started teaching himself how to cook more. It seemed to come naturally to him, probably because he loved food so much. You watched Sam head towards the bathroom and let out a sigh of relief. You realized Dean was still holding onto you and felt anxiety begin to grip at your chest as you turned to look at him.

Dean backed away and gave you a reassuring smile. "I'm pretty sure you didn't want to spill your guts to Sammy… We'll talk about this later, after pancakes ok?"

You thought about it briefly and nodded.

"Good." Dean walked towards the kitchen and left you with your thoughts. The words 'about time' and Sam's expression stuck in your head.

NOW

You stood as you heard the familiar sound of the impala's engine. Dean walked into the room and took in the devastation for a moment and turned towards you. The bathroom light illuminated his face and you held in your shock at his appearance. You were used to seeing him covered in blood—whether it was his or someone else's. But you'd noticed his eyes had started to turn black more and more lately. When you brought it to his attention, he would blink and his eyes would return to normal.

This time he simply shrugged and walked towards you, unchanging. "Did anyone attack you?"

"N-no." You unconsciously took a step backwards.

Dean's posture relaxed slightly as he started to peel off his bloody clothes. "I need a shower. Crowley won't pay for the damages, so try and fix the room a little." You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

It wasn't like you tore apart the room for attention, but part of you hoped Dean would care. "Yeah, sure Dean." He barely moved as you tried to squeeze out of the small bathroom.

You managed to straighten up the room enough to make it a livable space again. There wasn't much you could do for the lamp or broken chair. The bathroom door was left open because you needed the light. Dean emerged after half an hour clad in a towel.

There wasn't a mark on him. You let out a sigh of relief that at least he wasn't injured this time. Even in the darkness, you could see his eyes were still black pools. He walked towards you with confidence and you could tell he was still high from a kill.

"Dean…" You were frozen where you stood. He grabbed you and kissed you roughly, full of lust.

About a million thoughts were racing through your mind as he started to undress you. You thought about denying him and pushing him away, you weren't up for sex right now and you were still mad about Lisa Marie. Then you thought about just getting a chance to be close to Dean. He only let his guard down during sleep and when you were having sex anymore. You'd promised yourself you would never miss a chance to try to get through to him. Any missed chance to save him or potentially reason with him would haunt you forever, so you decided to let it happen.

You were on the bed and his hands were all over you as if he couldn't get enough. Dean's fingers brushed over the fresh cuts on your hip and you hissed in pain. He didn't seem to notice, or if he did he didn't care. This really wasn't him at all. You had to try to get him back as soon as you could.

"We should go off on our own babe… Off the grid. We could pick a direction and just fucking drive." Dean had mentioned the idea before, an adventure without all the death. He continued to kiss and nip at your neck and shoulders as you spoke. "It'd be like we said, the Grand Canyon, beaches, Yosemite, and the northern lights…" You nibbled at his ear playfully and tasted his skin.

"The bucket list…" Dean hummed in pleasure. "There's no point anymore, it's not like I can die." He began placing kisses just below your ribs and began to tease your nipples causing you to writhe in his grasp.

The point of the bucket list wasn't just to see something before you both died, it was about sharing things together. You brought his head to yours and kissed him while you rooted around in your brain for something else… You tried to flip him and get on top, Dean usually liked letting you take charge when you were in the mood. It was probably because people usually relied on him so much for everything else, it helped him let go.

This time he didn't budge. You found yourself briefly being held down by a force other than his hands before being released. "Not tonight, Y/N." His voice was like a low growl that would have turned you on more under normal circumstances. Instead, it caused you to briefly panic. The possessiveness, use of powers, and his eyes made this feel wrong. You briefly wondered if this is what Dean would be like without a soul.

Swallowing down your terror, you tried one last thing. "Let me see your eyes Dean." You gently whispered in his ear. His eyes remained black and you stroked the side of his face smiling. "No… your eyes babe."

Dean smiled in return. "These are my eyes Y/N."

Shit.

Reviews are love and will make me better. This is the first time I've tried to write anything close to a sex scene.