A heavy chill enveloped your sore limbs as you walked in silence through the doors of the Kappa Delta sorority house. Normally, you might have suspected a vengeful spirit to be lurking nearby, but today...? Well, it was probably just your battered and bruised body, reacting to the blood you had lost in the fight against those stupid demons.
Crouching down beside a set of spiraling, wooden stairs, you ran your fingertips over what appeared to be a pile of powdered, yellow chalk.
Sulfur.
I guess, you hadn't been able to completely exorcise the demons, after all.
"Sam... Dean..." you called, rubbing the sulfur between your thumb and index finger. "Check this out." Gazing up and over your shoulder, you watched as the Winchester brothers examined the yellow powder from above you. "This wasn't here before..." you explained, bringing the sulfur up to your nose. It smelled similar to that of rotting eggs. "We must've missed something... there has to be another demon."
"Well... I doubt its one of those sorority girls." Sam declared, his hazel eyes darting around the dark room, searching for more clues. "The police taped this place off, hours ago."
"So, you're thinking its one of the cops?" Dean asked, holding his calloused hand out to aid you in standing. The green-eyed man frowned when you let out a pained groan. "Are you okay, [Y/N]?"
"Yeah. I'm fine... just a little sore." you assured him with an appreciative smile, a soft blush rising into your cheeks. You couldn't deny the fact that you had strong feelings for Dean Winchester; and though he had never brought up the subject, you were almost certain that he felt a similar passion for you. He was your best friend, the only man that you could ever picture spending your life with... the single ray of sunshine that pierced through your, otherwise, gloomy days on Earth.
He was your rock. He was your soul. He was your everything.
"Are you sure?" Dean quizzed, giving your body a quick scan. "...because, if you aren't feeling up to this hunt, I could always take you back to the motel." At his worry, you shook your head and patted him gently on the shoulder. "I don't want you to overwork yourself, [Y/N]."
"Dean, I'm absolutely fine." you grinned, leaning up to place a friendly kiss on the man's perfectly scruffy cheek. "You know that I'd much rather be here, than locked away in some stuffy motel room. Besides..." you dragged on, shivering at the unpleasant thoughts that popped into your head. "...who knows how many creepy, old men have watched 'Casa Erotica' on that bed."
"That's disgusting, [Y/N]." Sam whined with a shudder, while Dean chuckled, seemingly unfazed.
"I can't say I haven't done worse."
"Eww, Dean." you laughed, giving the man a light shove. "Let's try to focus on the hunt, okay?"
"Please." Sam nearly begged, his mind more than likely reeling after your joke... and Dean's nonchalant confession.
He would probably choose to sleep in the Impala tonight.
"Okay... so, we're thinking that the demon possessed one of the police officers, right?" you inquired, absentmindedly picking at your neatly trimmed nails. "Why don't we head over to the station, see if we can't find him... or her?"
"Actually... why don't you stay here, [Y/N]?" Dean suggested warily, knowing that you would probably want to tag along for any possible 'dirty' work. "Maybe, you'll find something that could lead us to the demon..." With the shrug of your shoulders, you exhaled deeply, surprisingly relieved that you wouldn't have to risk any further injury. Dean, however, took your prolonged silence in a negative way, probably believing that you were upset. "I... It's just... you said that you were sore." he stuttered, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "I thought you might appreciate the opportunity to lie low."
"I do, Dean." you responded, flashing him an honest smile. "I'll do some digging here, see what I can find." Dean instantly relaxed at your words, his thumbs hooking through the belt loops on his jeans. "...just don't take too long." you added teasingly. "There's an ice-cream place down the street, that's calling my name."
"Well, I want pie..." Dean chuckled, shaking his head. "...but I guess I'll make do with ice cream."
"Wow." Sam remarked, raising his eyebrows. "You're giving up pie, just because [Y/N] would rather have ice cream?" You smiled brightly in Dean's direction, waiting for Sam to finish. "It must be a very cold day in hell."
"What can I say, Sammy?" Dean mused, returning your smile. "I'd do anything for [Y/N]."
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"Dammit." you moaned throatily, searing pain shooting through your entire body. Pushing away the, now dead, demon, you set Ruby's knife on the blood-stained floor, resisting the urge to vomit when you noticed that your femur was piercing through your skin.
You had been wrong...
The demon was possessing a sorority girl... and she had been waiting patiently for your arrival, striking only minutes after Sam and Dean left for the police station.
Everything had been planned... from the demons that you had hunted earlier in the day, to the sulfur that had been planted at the bottom of the stairs. It was all a trap... a trap that was supposed to inevitably end with your death.
Apparently, you hadn't gotten the memo.
Fighting back the tears that threatened to fall, you leaned your head against the tacky, peach colored walls. There was no way in hell, you'd be walking out of this house alone.
Patting the pockets of your jeans, you searched for your cellphone, being careful not to touch the blood-gushing wound on your thigh.
Unfortunately, you came up empty handed.
"Shit." you whined, dancing your eyes around the room. You must've dropped your phone during the earlier confrontation with the demon.
Not that you were in any condition to retrieve it...
Hopefully, Sam and Dean would be back soo-
"[Y/N]?" the recognizable voice of Dean Winchester called out, as he opened the front door and crossed underneath the yellow police lines. "Did I leave Ruby's knife with you? Sam and I couldn't find it."
Well... if nothing else, that beautiful, emerald-eyed man sure did seem to come in at the correct moment.
"Dean." you cried out, smacking the wooden floor in attempt to draw him closer.
Luckily, it seemed to work.
"[Y/N]?" Dean yelled questionably, making his way around the corner. "Are you... son-of-a-bitch, [Y/N]. he gasped, racing to your side. "What the hell happened?"
"The demon... she was here." you explained, biting your lip when Dean gently pulled back the torn fabric of your jeans, revealing the mutilated flesh and bone. "It... it was a setup. I fought... dammit that hurts." you groaned, finally allowing tears to stream down your face. "The demon... she was hiding. This whole damn hunt was a trap... th... they wanted to kill me."
Dean quickly wiped the tears away with the pad of this thumb, causing another pained cry to pass over your lips.
Apparently, the damage didn't stop at a broken femur.
"I'm so sorry, [Y/N]." the man whispered, his eyes becoming wet at the sight of your agony. "I should've been here."
"Don't worry about that now, Dean." you rasped, frowning when a single tear rolled down the man's cheek. "Please, just get me out of here."
"Okay..." he breathed, quickly taking in his surroundings before lifting his shirt and unbuckling his belt. Even in your injured state, you had to refrain from drooling at the sight of his taut abdominal muscles.
"Dean, I don't think that this is a good time for... that. " you insinuated subtly, hoping that a joke would lighten the heavy tension within the room.
Dean chuckled softly, using the leather belt as a tourniquet for your bleeding thigh; however, he didn't respond any further. Instead, he retrieved the bloodied knife from the floor beside you before leaning forward for you to wrap your arms around his neck.
"Ready?" he questioned, gazing into your eyes and shimmying his right arm underneath your uninjured leg. Had you been in a different situation, you might've gotten lost in those gorgeous, green orbs.
"As I'll ever be." you replied, feeling Dean tighten his grip and lift you off of the floor. The increasing pressure on your leg left you stunned; and to be honest, you didn't know whether the yell that passed over your lips had been real, or in your imagination.
"I'm so sorry, babe." Dean crooned, placing a series of butterfly-kisses to your hairline when you hid your face against the crook of his neck. He walked slowly, doing his best not to bounce you in his muscular arms. "We'll get you to the hospital soon, alright?"
"No." you whimpered into his neck, feeling the chilly autumn air, nipping at fingertips. "I don't need to go to the hospital."
You absolutely loathed hospitals. They were creepy, smelled weird, and seemed to permeate death.
Psychiatric Facilities? Sure.
Haunted houses? Of course.
But a hospital...? No. Freaking. Way.
From afar, you could hear Sam calling your name, rushing to open the back door of the Impala. "Babe..." Dean began with a sigh. "...this ain't a paper-cut. I can't fix broken bones with dental floss and whisky."
"Cas..." you blubbered, screaming when Dean placed you onto the Impala's backseat. Shockingly, he didn't join Sam in the front; rather, he slid into the back alongside you, resting your head in his lap.
"There's no guarantee that he'll show up." Dean answered solemnly, running his fingers through your hair. "I'll be right beside you the whole time. You won't be alone, okay?"
"Promise?" you questioned, flinching when Dean wiped away more of your fallen tears.
"I promise... you know I'd do anything for you, [Y/N]."
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A broken leg, three broken ribs, a hairline fracture to your cheekbone, and endless contusions and lacerations covering the entirety of your body. This had been the diagnosis that you received, just six days earlier.
Not that you couldn't have come to the same conclusions yourself...
Dean had kept his promise, never once leaving your side during your short stint at the hospital; and he had even managed to convince the doctors and nurses to let you leave later that same night. Though... you were almost certain that the massive temper-tantrum you had thrown, also aided in the hospital staff's decision.
Nevertheless, you were out of that hospital, and now safely tucked away within the walls of the bunker.
Sleepily peering over to your right, you smiled, noticing the glorious lines of Dean's body, slumped over on the couch beside you. Your hand was held tightly within his own, and for the first time since you had returned from the hospital, he was sleeping soundly. You studied the features of his face... his defined jawline, his chiseled nose, and his impeccable cheekbones.
God, he was absolutely breathtaking.
Trying not to wake the sleeping man, you slowly removed your hand from his, giggling when he whined at the loss.
Dean needed a break. He had been catering to you non-stop for nearly a week; and though you definitely appreciated his kindness, you didn't want him to overexert himself.
Stretching your arms above your head, you ignored your ribs as they screamed in protest.
...hopefully Cas would pop in soon.
I mean, don't get me wrong, you loved spending time with Dean; but you would enjoy doing so, even more, if you were pain free.
"Babe..." Dean slurred from beside you, his eyes remaining closed. "Do you need me to get you something?" You smiled once more, taking the time to scan over his broad shoulders and strong muscles that seemed to flex with his every movement. "[Y/N]?" Dean questioned, cracking open his eyes.
"No." you reassured him, rubbing your own tired eyes. "...well, unless you're not offering to be my body-pillow, that is." you continued, seeing if he would take your -not so subtle- hint.
Letting out a laugh, Dean settled more comfortably onto the couch and opened his arms, gently reaching over to pull you on top of him.
"Anything for you, [Y/N]."
By: imagine-that-supernatural