So as some of you may have noticed I've been absent for a while, mainly due to exam stress because my exams are coming in like 2 months and all of my coursework is due in so I'm super stressed and haven't really had the time to write anything. However..... I am planning on returning very soon, I have two weeks of next week and any spare time not spent revising or doing coursework will be dedicated to writing things for this blog and making imagines for @supernaturalimagine Anyways, see you guys soon!!!
Lots of quick pecks on the cheek whenever he passes you throughout the day
At first he’s hesitant to say it, but after the first time he tells you that he loves you, he won’t stop saying it, even if it’s just a whisper in your ear
Being the little spoon, because let’s face it, Sam is the PERFECT big spoon
He’s not over-protective, he likes to let you do your own thing, he knows what it’s like to feel trapped and he never wants you to feel that way
He would still be wary of danger around you though, after everything that’s happened to the people he loves, he would go out of his way to make sure that you were safe
Staying up late with him in the bunker’s library, doing research together
You always fall asleep first, so he’ll end up carrying you upstairs to your room, although sometimes both of you will fall asleep together, and you’ll wake to find your head buried in the crook of his shoulder
When you do manage to fall asleep in your bed, you’ll both lie awake for a while talking, never seeming to run out of things to chat about
Warnings: Mentions of bruises and scars, vague implication of torture, nightmares, basically loads of angst i guess (gee I went dark on this one didnt I)
Word Count: 982
Note: Okay this was originally supposed to be a oneshot with a short follow up piece, but it got so damn long, and I wanted to get at least part of it out to you guys this week, so its going to be a series (which i didnt really want to do seeing as I still need to keep up with the nightmares series but oh well) I practically have part 2 complete all ready (that’s how long this was) so expect it soon! This was really emotionally draining to write for some reason. As always feedback is appreciated!!!
Numb.
That was the only thing you could feel. The numbness, seeping throughout your whole body, from your shoulders to your feet, the very feeling of not feeling. Well, better the numbness than what you knew lay beneath. Better than what the numbness masked, better than the pain.
The only regions of your body that had much feeling where the extremities; your toes, curling into the leather of your worn boots. Your fingers, grappling at the smooth surface of the impala’s back seat, sliding the pad if your thumb over it again and again in an attempt to anchor yourself to something, anything, in this sea of non-feeling.
It had been like this for at least a few hours now, you were laid out on the backseat while Dean drove, drifting in and out of consciousness, the only sounds the hum of the engine and the lashing of the rain against the exterior of the car, all of it interspersed with the occasional groan of pain from yourself, whenever the numbness ceased to hold it back.
“Y/N, you okay back there?” He didn’t take his eyes off the road ahead, you knew he didn’t want to look at you right now, didn’t want to see the bruises and cuts that covered most of your skin, you knew that he felt as though it was his fault.
“I’m okay Dean,” you replied, practically whispering, careful not to move too much, in fear of creating more pain within your aching body. You slowly began to drift off again, falling back into sleep.
All you could see was black, darkness surrounding you, filling your vision. There was a murmuring in the background, whispered voices, shrill laughter. You tried to move but couldn’t, something was restraining you.
You tugged at your wrists, your legs, pushed your torso forward, even tried to move your neck, but it was impossible. Whatever this force was, it was holding you down. You began to panic, your breath quickening as you tugged more violently at the restraints. The murmurs in the background grew and grew, until they were no longer murmurs but roars, filling your eardrums, threatening to burst them. You let out a scream.
When you next awoke, you were no longer in the car, but in the familiar surrounding of your room in the bunker. You inhaled the comforting smell of musty oak, relaxing a little. You lifted your head up as much as possible, glancing around at the walls, same as ever, before your eyes landed on the door, it wasn’t shut, but left open ever so slightly; two voices drifted through the gap, seemingly just outside.
“Okay thanks Cas - and like I said don’t feel bad about it, if there’s nothing you can do, there’s nothing you can do. Okay - bye” that sounded like Sam, his voice calm and warm as ever, but quiet. You strained to listen to the words. “Okay, going by your description, Cas said he should be able to heal some of it, but he’s limited on what he can do with the rest. She just needs to heal the old-fashioned way”
You laid your head back down, listening intently, wanting to hear what was being said, but found yourself becoming dizzy, the room beginning to twist and turn around you, objects getting bigger and then smaller, going in and out of focus as if you were looking at it all through some sort of distorted mirror. You closed your eyes in an attempt to block it out, but it began to create a noise, a noise that wasn’t there, ringing through your ears, breaking through your desperate attempt.
“Dean” you croaked, your voice hoarse and dry. “Dean” you repeated his name, as loud as you could this time, hoping that he could hear you.
In a flash you could hear his footsteps enter the room, Sam’s close behind. He came into your line of vision, worry evident on his features. “Y/N? What’s wrong? What’s happening?” He asked you, hunching over and placing one hand on your forehead, the other on your arm. You flinched a little at the pain even such a small touch could inflict, and he withdrew his hand immediately, his eyes conveying so much guilt that you thought it would make your heart burst. Add that to your list of injuries.
“Dean the room... the room - it’s spinning, and it makes my head hurt so badly” You were mumbling now, whining, barely able to get the words out and keep your eyes open at the same time.
“Shh now, close your eyes” he whispered to you, voice full of soothing and comfort. So you did, attempting to focus on Dean’s voice, letting it wash over you again and again like waves, and finally allowed yourself to be set adrift on the sea of sleep once again.
The room turned red, like the colour of dried blood and the roars sank back into murmurs and whispers once more at the change, satisfied maybe.
You stopped tugging against whatever was restraining you, unsure of what was happening, thoughts racing through your head at a million miles a minute. You began to make out a shape among the redness. It seemed to be some sort of person. This faceless figure approached, more and more being revealed as they got closer; tall and shrouded in darkness, they seemed to carry the shadows with them. Dark, messy hair tumbled past their shoulders, but that was not what worried you. Through it all, there was only one thing you could focus on. One thing that seemed to instill fear in the depths of your very being. Eyes of gleaming red and pitch black. Eyes that managed to make their way through even the murkiness that surrounded you, looking upon you with interest and excitement... and danger.
I've been adding about 300-400 words to it every day, but I really want to get it out by this Sunday, so I'm going to try and write a shit ton more tomorrow and tonight
This Dean fic is already at 1,200 words and I'm not even halfway through the storyline yet. Need to take a little break. Send me preferences/headcanons/drabbles so I can get my head out of this story for a bit?
Note: This is like the longest single fic that I’ve ever written
“What do I do Sam?”
You were both in Sam’s room, he was sat on the bed with his laptop doing some research. Calm music quietly floated out of the record player you had both found a while back. You however, were anything but calm, pacing backwards and forwards across the room.
“Y/N you’ll be fine, it’s just a date, there’s nothing to do except enjoy yourself”
“I know, I know, I’m just nervous, that’s all.” you replied, suddenly stopping your pacing only to throw yourself down opposite Sam on the bed. You grabbed one of his pillows and tucked it under your chin, letting out a heavy sigh. Sam had been your best friend since you joined the boys a while back, and there was hardly a day you didn’t talk, cooped up somewhere in the bunker, keeping each other company. “Ughhhh. Why does this have to be so difficult?” you groaned
“It doesn’t though, that’s the thing. I don’t get why you’re so nervous anyway”
Note: This is like the longest single fic that I’ve ever written
“What do I do Sam?”
You were both in Sam’s room, he was sat on the bed with his laptop doing some research. Calm music quietly floated out of the record player you had both found a while back. You however, were anything but calm, pacing backwards and forwards across the room.
“Y/N you’ll be fine, it’s just a date, there’s nothing to do except enjoy yourself”
“I know, I know, I’m just nervous, that’s all.” you replied, suddenly stopping your pacing only to throw yourself down opposite Sam on the bed. You grabbed one of his pillows and tucked it under your chin, letting out a heavy sigh. Sam had been your best friend since you joined the boys a while back, and there was hardly a day you didn’t talk, cooped up somewhere in the bunker, keeping each other company. “Ughhhh. Why does this have to be so difficult?” you groaned
“It doesn’t though, that’s the thing. I don’t get why you’re so nervous anyway”
“I just... haven’t been on a date in a really long time” you muttered, keen to avoid the key piece of information.
“Oh come on, it can’t have been that long, you-”
“Five years Sam, five freakin’ years” you mumbled it, burying your face in the pillow, cheeks turning red with embarrassment. You almost hoped that he hadn’t heard your admission at all.
“Seriously?” His voice wasn’t filled with pity or sarcasm like you had expected, but the question was rather just a genuine question.
You lifted your head a little so you could see him. He had finally closed his laptop, placing it to the side, and was now looking at you, his perfect brown eyes giving you undivided attention. You gave a small nod before throwing your face down into the pillow again.
There was a moment of silence before Sam spoke up “Tell you what... I’ve got an idea” he said slowly.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I’ve gotta go get something, but meet me back here in a couple of hours, let’s say seven? Wear something comfortable” Sam said quickly, getting up from where he sat, before flashing you a quick smile and dashing out of the room.
That was odd you thought to yourself. What on earth could he be up to? You quickly put the thought out of your head however, this was Sam, your best friend Sam, maybe he actually had come up with a way to make you feel less nervous.
You spent the next few hours in your room, researching and looking for new cases. You and the boys had been without a case for a week now, and Dean was getting antsy, he loved the bunker, but he couldn’t stand to stay cooped up for too long.
After what seemed to be forever, the clock on the wall opposite you struck seven, and you hauled yourself up, shoving your books to the side and closing your laptop, before making your way back to Sam’s room.
His door was closed, which was odd, so you knocked, calling out “Sam? Can I come in?” your hand already on the door handle.
“Just a second!” Came the reply, before the door swung open, almost causing you to fall over. Sam stood there for a second smiling, as you peered through the threshold, curious to see what was happening.
“Sam, what’s going on?”
“You’ll see in a second, now come here” he replied, taking your arm and leading you into the room and around the bed, where a blanket was spread on the floor. On top of it there were two plates, as well as a platter of bread and cheese and grapes. In the middle there was a small candle.
You turned around to face Sam, completely and utterly confused. “What is this?”
“It’s my idea. A practice date. I figured that you wouldn’t be so nervous about going on a date if I showed you that it’s nothing to be worried about, it’s just dinner and talking, just like how we talk every day.”
Your heart began to race a little, a practice date? With Sam? You couldn’t quite process all the thoughts flooding your brain, whizzing around your mind and bashing against the sides.
At your worried expression Sam took your hand “Just relax Y/N, and I promise that soon enough you won’t be worried about a thing.” he said soothingly
You nodded slightly, he was right, you were worrying about this way too much. You let yourself relax, taking a breath, and walked over to the blanket, sitting down on one side. Seeing this, Sam grinned, before coming to sit opposite you, crossing his long legs.
Sam had been right, the “practice date” was perfect, and you both talked yourselves hoarse while eating the amazing food Dean had cooked up. You were on dessert now, just simple strawberries and cream, but God was it delicious.
“Y’know, I knew that Dean loves his food, but I never knew he was so good at making it” you said, chuckling
“Yeah, honestly it came as a surprise to me too, but he’s a really good cook”
There was a pause as you both continued eating, listening to that same calm music floating from the record player. “Thanks for this Sam, I mean it.”
“No problem” he replied, spearing a strawberry on his fork “What are friends for?”
You did the same, dipping the little red fruit in some cream before munching down on it, a little cream trickling down your chin. “Oh God” you mumbled, desperately looking around you to find a napkin, but there didn’t seem to be a single one near you.
Sam laughed a little “Here, let me” he said, grabbing his own napkin and leaning over, moving the candle out of the way as he did so.
“I told you Sam, I’m such a klutz, I’m never going to get this right”
“Nonsense” he said, gently wiping your chin, a small smile on his lips. “You’re doing... just... fine.” His words became slower and further apart, as he finished, his expression changing, and he didn’t move away.
“Sam. What’s wro-” you began to question, but your words were cut off as Sam leaned in even closer, your faces almost touching, and then suddenly he was kissing you. It was slow and soft and sweet, but only lasted for a moment as Sam broke it, pulling away, his cheeks tinted red.
“Y/N I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, I-I don’t know what came over me-”
This time he was the one cut off, as you leaned towards him, pressing your lips to his again. It took a second, but he smiled into it, reciprocating. It was different this time. He was different this time, rougher, harsher, yet still soft, pushing forwards as his arms came up to your sides, large hands running up and down your arms, before he pushed you backwards, your shoulders gently hitting the floor.
Your lips briefly broke contact, as he smiled at you, hair falling forwards over his face, surrounding the both of you, before his lips were on yours again. You rolled around a little on the floor, fighting for dominance, Sam unable to keep his hands from tracing the outlines of your body, your waist, your arms, before he grabbed your hands, intertwining your fingers together, holding on.
Eventually you fell apart, breathless, onto your backs, hands still linked. You began to giggle, unable to control it, and Sam began to laugh with you, until you were both laughing hysterically.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long, long time” came his voice from beside you, as the laughter slowly stopped.
“I could tell” you replied, a grin breaking out across your features as you looked over at him. “Me too.”
“I’ve got an idea”
“I’m beginning to like your ideas” you giggled, cheeks still warm
“How about, instead of going on a date with whats-his-face next Friday, I take you out instead?” his voice was hopeful, although there was a hint of doubt, as though he were afraid you would say no.
“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”
“Really?” you could practically hear the smile in his voice
“Really. And maybe I’ll even let you pick up where we left off” you said, chuckling a little.
He rolled onto his side, moving over you, that gorgeous grin on his face again. “Why wait?”
“Lucifer… this is amazing!” you gazed in awe at the piano in front of you, a Steinway of shining black enamel. “It’s perfect!” You exclaimed, turning around to hug your boyfriend, throwing your arms around his neck. “Thank you so much!” You said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“It’s nothing, really.” He replied with a small laugh. “I’m just glad that you like it”
“Like it? Luce, I love it!” You grinned. And it was true, you did love it, the piano was beautiful, and it was a Steinway for Christ’s sakes, the very piano you’d wanted since you were five years old! “It’s perfect” you breathed, shifting your gaze to the instrument again.
“Well then, what are you waiting for? Why don’t you play something for me?”
You slowly walked around the piano, trailing your hand along the paneling as you did so, still taking in it’s raw beauty and perfection, and sank down onto the stool, unable to take your eyes off the strings and hammers that lay, resting, beneath the propped up cover.
You ghosted your hands over the shining black and white keys, glancing at the ornate golden lettering that spelled out S T E I N W A Y. Positioning yourself, you placed your hands just above the keys, and one foot on a golden pedal, and taking a breath. In, and then out, just like you used to, before launching yourself into it.
You let yourself go, allowing your muscle memory to guide you through the piece, the music surrounding you in a cloud of emotion and pure feeling, just as it had always done.
Your fingers gently pressed the last few notes, finishing the piece, and you looked up. Lucifer stood opposite, hands fallen to his sides, a look that you couldn’t quite read on his face. “What is it?” You asked quietly.
“That was… beautiful.” He said slowly, a soft smile slowly spreading across his face. “Is it about something? I feel that it tells some sort of story.”
“It does, as a matter of fact” You replied, a smile tugging at your lips. “Want to hear it?”
He nodded, coming to sit next to you on the stool.
“It’s about the two sides of the moon” You started. “The light and the dark.” You took his hand in yours, holding it palm upwards. “See now, most people, they think that the dark and the light are opposing forces, that one seeks to overcome the other, but here’s the thing, they’re wrong. The light may be on one side,” You trailed a finger over the palm of his hand. “and the dark may be on the other,” You flipped his hand over, this time trailing over the knuckles “But together, they work in perfect harmony” You said, clasping both sides of his hand between yours. “And that what the song is about, the two sides of light and dark on the moon, sometimes clashing, but working together as one to create something beautiful.” You finished off, finally looking back up at your boyfriend.
A small smile was visible on his lips as he looked at you warmly. “You know, that song was beautiful… but not quite as beautiful as you.”
Note: This was going to be a lot longer, but the way I had it before didn’t feel right, so I rewrote it differently, and the bit that was going to be at the end of this part will be during the next part hopefully. As always feedback is much appreciated :)
Part 1 // Part 2
You stood outside Dean’s door for a moment, composing yourself. You looked down at your hand, still shaking ever so slightly, one of the nervous ticks that you were still working on controlling. Focusing, you attempted to still it, to no avail. You let out a carefully measured breath, and tentatively reached forward, pushing the door open.
He was sitting on the floor now, leaning on the frame of his bed, legs pulled up into his chest and arms crossed over them. And he was still staring, staring at that spot on the floor. Never in your life had you seen Dean Winchester look so vulnerable.
“Dean?” you said it quietly, but he still heard you.
He looked round, watery blue eyes landing on you. He placed a hand on the floor and pushed himself up. Without a word he walked over to where you were standing, and pulled you to him, his arms wrapping around you in a hug. You fell into it, lifting your chin ever so slightly to rest on his shoulder.
“I am so sorry. I don’t know what happened, but I am so, so sorry.” He pulled back, and you saw that tears had begun to run down his cheeks. He looked you in the eye, utmost sincerity splayed across his features. “I would never hurt you.”
“It’s okay Dean. I know.” you replied, pulling him into another hug as you did so; You let your chin fall on his shoulder again, feeling the soft fabric against your skin, it was... comforting in a way.
He quickly pushed away from you again, but left his hands on your shoulders. “No it’s not Y/N, it’s not okay, because I hurt you!” he blurted out, looking you straight in the eye, before letting his hands fall into his lap, his eyes following them, and half-whispering “And all I remember is waking up and seeing you practically passed out on the floor, a-and I thought...” he paused, his eyes fluttering up to yours, before looking back down at his lap again “I thought you were dead Y/N. I thought you were dead and I was the one who had killed you” His face was filled with raw emotion, tears in the corners of his eyes as he dared a glance at you.
You were speechless, you knew Dean would feel guilty about it, sure, but you didn’t think it would affect him this badly! “Hey” you said softly, reaching a hand up to cup his chin, and lift it so that he would look at you properly. “Dean, look at me, I’m right here okay? And I’m going to be here to annoy you and Sam for a long time?” You chuckled “You don’t think you could get rid of me that easily do you?”
A smile tugged at his lips.
“There ya go; now, I should really be getting back to bed if we’re gonna stake out that vamps nest tomorrow like we said, and so should you.” you began to turn around to leave, but Dean’s hand caught your arm, holding on tight.
“Wait, it’s just, um.”
“Yeah Dean?”
“Nothing, just, thanks for understanding I guess”
A sad smile played on your lips “Sure Dean.” Why had he changed his mind about telling you something? Did he not trust you? you left the room quickly and entered your own, closing the door softly.
You slid down against the solid oak of the door, sinking onto the floor. Suddenly, everything that had happened that day just seemed to overwhelm you in a flood of tears. You sat there for a while, sobbing silently, eyes staring across the room but seeing nothing, thoughts running rampant through your mind.
Did he need to tell you something? Why didn’t he trust you enough to tell you? This was Dean for Christ’s sake! And then through it all, the constant loop in the back of your head he hit me, he hit me, he hit me, he hit me.
Pull yourself together! Your own thoughts snapped back at you, pulling you out of the daze you had allowed yourself to sink into. Thinking like this would do nothing to help you, and you really needed to sleep. The tiredness was pulling at your eyelids, convincing them to close, and you could feel the weight on your muscles.
You managed to pull yourself from the floor, and dragged an arm across your face, wiping away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks like raindrops on a window. You all but staggered the last few steps to your bed before falling into it, and letting the sleep overcome you.
Reblog if you are a fanfiction author and would like your readers to put one of your fic titles in your ask + questions about it
1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?
2: What scene did you first put down?
3: What's your favorite line of narration?
4: What's your favorite line of dialogue?
5: What part was hardest to write?
6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?
7: Where did the title come from?
8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?
9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?
10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?
11: What do you like best about this fic?
12: What do you like least about this fic?
13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn't listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?
14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?
Some edits are going to be made To Nightmares part 1 and 2, (based on the wonderful advice given by the lovely @justcallmeyourgoddess ) but it shouldn't affect the storyline at all, and part 3 will be posted soon! Also, for those of you that have read it, I'm going to be rewriting and reposting the first part to Cry your heart out, as it was my first fic, and I don't really like how it came out at all. So yeah!!
Warnings: Aftercare (after what happened at the end of pt.1)
Word Count: 673
Note: This one is a little bit of a filler I guess, but I thought that this was a good place to lead on to the next part. It is still important to the storyline though! Lots of platonic samxreader
Read Part 1
Your eyes blinked open. Light filling your vision as the world slowly came back into focus.
“Y/N! Oh my God, are you okay?”
You lifted your head a little, and saw Sam rush towards you from the door, concern splayed across his features. Kneeling down, he helped you into a sitting position before giving you a once over to check that you weren’t hurt.
“The back of your shoulder is bleeding a little, it doesn’t look too bad but we should disinfect it just to make sure. What happened?”
You looked up properly now, meeting eyes with Dean. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring right at you, his face showing only shock, mingled with a little bit of fear at the realisation of what he’d done.
“Y/N?” It was Sam again, “What happened?” he questioned, but you stayed blank, still staring at Dean. What had happened?
“Never mind, let’s get you downstairs so I can clean this up.” he said, and helped you to your feet. Your legs were shaking a little, but you managed to stand up, gripping onto Sam’s arm as he led you towards the door.
You glanced back at Dean, still staring at the spot on the floor where you had landed, the spot where a small amount of your blood was still smeared on the floor.
Sam was completely silent on the way to the kitchen, one hand on your arm, the other supporting your back, completely focused on getting you there without your still shaking legs giving out.
When you finally arrived, Sam picked you up in one swift movement, and with surprising ease, he lifted you onto the counter top, looking you briefly in the eye before walking to one of the cabinets and grabbing the medical kit out of it.
Opening it, he began to work over the small wound, still silent, his face steely and so unlike himself. You winced at the sting, but gritted your teeth.
“Sam it’s okay! There’s barely anything there.” you said, slightly exasperated, but he remained silent until he had finished his ministrations. At which point he moved round until he was standing in front of you, and gripped your upper arms in both hands, forcing you to look him in the eye.
“Y/N, I need you to tell me what happened in there, okay? I need to know why Dean did this.” his voice suddenly filled with concern again, his eyes soft, and full of worry.
“I woke up to the sound of Dean shouting,” you started out shakily, in a whisper “So naturally, I picked up my gun and went into his room, ready to shoot whatever the hell had made it’s way into the bunker and was attacking him. B-but when I got there, it was just him. He was having a nightmare Sam....” you paused for a moment. “Except this wasn’t the usual type of nightmare. H-he was thrashing about, and his arms looked like they were stuck to the bed, a-and I didn’t know what to do, so I thought that I would try and calm him down without waking him up, y’know? But then when I sat down and put my hand on his arm, h-he....” you trailed off, not even able to think about what had happened, never mind say it.
“It’s okay Y/N, I know” Sam said, pulling you into a gentle hug “I know.” he paused. “What do you want to do?” he asked as he unwrapped his long arms from around you.
“I think I’m gonna go talk to him” you replied. You looked up at him again, and at the look of wariness on his face, let out a little chuckle, “Don’t worry Sam, I’m fine, see?” you said, and jumped off the counter. “I’m just going to go and talk to him, he’s probably as shocked as I was.”
“Okay, fine.” Sam replied. “But we’re going to have to talk about this properly sooner or later.”
“Sure, Sam.” you answered, walking towards the door, “But for now, I’m going to talk to Dean, and finally get back to sleep.”
Warnings: Nightmares (obvs), Dean hits the reader (but like he’s asleep, its not on purpose or anything)
Word Count: 368 (I know its kinda short)
Note: This started off as a oneshot but it got kinda long so I’m going to make it into a series.
You jerked awake, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, still slightly drowsy. Looking around, you glanced at the alarm clock on your nightstand, 4:00 am it read. “What in the hell?” you mumbled to yourself, still unsure as to what woke you.
Suddenly, you heard Deans voice from the room next door. “Y/N! No! No! Please Y/N!” He sounded panicked, and why on earth was he saying your name?
Fear filled your veins as you quickly got out of the bed, grabbing your gun from the nightstand as you did so, and moving swiftly, padded into the hallway, quiet as you could be, pistol held at the ready, before bursting into Deans room, ready to shoot whatever had managed to make its way into the bunker.
But instead of seeing a vamp or a werewolf or some other sort of scum-of-the-earth monster, you were greeted with the sight of Dean. Just Dean. Except he was thrashing about under the covers, arms seemingly pinned to his sides, sweat beading on his forehead. And he was still shouting.
“Sammy! Y/N! - Please… No. No!… NO!”
You moved closer, and saw that despite everything, his eyes were still closed. Suddenly, you realised. He was having a nightmare.
Unsure of whether to leave him and let it play out, or wake him, you stood up, halfway in, halfway out the door, before finally deciding. You would try to calm him down while he was still asleep, stopping the nightmare but not waking him up. At least that was the plan.
Stepping forward, you sat gingerly on the edge of his bed, placing your gun on the table. Looking at him for a moment, you couldn’t help but glance down at the mark, still prominent as ever against the tanned skin of his forearm. You couldn’t help but let yourself sigh a little, before shaking your head. Snap out of it you thought to yourself. Get it together. You straightened the covers a little, before placing your hand on Dean’s arm, a little way above the mark, when WHAM! His arm shot up, hitting you squarely in the shoulder with surprising force, and sending you flying from the bed and onto the floor.
