I watched as Dean paced, staring down at his phone, debating.
"Ah, screw it," he muttered, opening the phone and dialing. "Hey, it's me, uh... Look, I'll just get right to it. I'm still pissed... and I owe you a serious beatdown. But... I shouldn't have said what I said. You know, I'm not Dad. We're brothers. You know, we're family. And, uh... no matter how bad it gets, that doesn't change. Sammy, I'm sorry."
He hung up then, letting out a long sigh.
"Do I wanna know the backstory?" I inquired.
He glanced over at me, hesitating slightly.
"Hey, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Bitch Boy."
"Okay, where the hell is this attitude coming from?" he quirked an eyebrow at me.
"I'm done, Dean! I don't want to do this anymore!"
"And you think I do?"
"No, you don't understand," I shook my head, standing. "Before you got here? I tried to kill myself. BUT THOSE WINGED DICKS WOULDN'T LET ME DIE!"
Dean was quiet, swallowing hard as he stared at me, candy apple green eyes wide with shock.
"I'M SO FREAKING DONE WITH THIS! I'VE LOST TOO MUCH, AND I'M NOT GETTING A DAMN THING IN RETURN!" I screamed. "I JUST WANT TO FUCKING DIE SO I DON'T HAVE TO DEAL WITH THIS ANYMORE. I CAN'T! I... I can't... Not anymore."
I sank back onto the couch, burying my face in my hands as I sobbed. A moment later, I felt Dean sit down beside me and pull me into his side, rubbing his hand up and down my arm as he planted a kiss on top of my head.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."
His words just made me sob harder, turning my head to bury into the crook of his neck while he held me protectively.
"I wish I could help you," Dean continued, voice barely rising above a whisper the entire time. "I wish I could take away all the pain you're feeling right now. I love you so much, Ellie Bear. And I don't know what I'd do with myself if you died. I know this whole mess is a load of crap, and I wish I could do something to change that, but I just can't. I just can't."
I lifted my head to look up into his eyes, and then suddenly his mouth was on mine and he was easing me back onto the couch, adjusting himself on top of me. My hands traveled down his chest until they reached his belt and started undoing the buckle as he gave a low growl from deep in his throat, never breaking our lip lock.
⁘
Dean's POV
After we got redressed, Ellie finally fell asleep on the couch in my arms. It had been way too long since we had done anything intimate together, and I had to admit it felt really good. As gently as I could, I unentangled myself, slipping out from under her. My heart had shattered when she told me she'd tried to kill herself before I arrived. She was my perfect girl, my other half in so many ways, and it hurt me to hear she had stooped down to that level. Keeping quiet to ensure she didn't wake, I uttered a silent prayer to Castiel, hoping he'd come talk to me, and then waited.
When nearly an hour had passed with no sign of the angel, I started to get frustrated, poking around the room again. Forgetting briefly that Ellie was still asleep on the couch, I tipped one of the many figurines around the room, causing it to crash to the ground. When a noise sounded from the couch, I looked over guiltily, but Ellie just burrowed further into the cushions of the couch, remaining asleep and I let out a breath of relief.
"You asked to see me?"
I turned to face the angel angrily, trying to hide it.
"Yeah, listen, I, uh, I-I need something."
YOU ARE READING
She Talks to Angels | {BOOK 2}
Fanfiction-BOOK 2 IN THE DAWSON'S DAUGHTER SERIES- ___ It's been four months since Dean went to Hell, and they've all taken it pretty hard. However, when Ellie hears her angel's voice in her head for the first time since the attack, it starts a chain of event...
