#i was listening to a poorly mixed cover of gods & monsters and this happened

[jay-and-dean]

Rescue You Chapter 11 : December 2 and 3

Dean x reader

Summary : My name is Y/n. I’m the outcast of my witch community. This is the story of how I rescued Dean Winchester, the story of how he saved me.

Serie Warnings : Swearing. Injuries. Smut. Fluff. Angst.

Chapter warning : Angst, angst, angst and fluff.

Words : 2.9 k 

Author note : There will be 14 chapters, the schedule of the editing is added in the Masterlist. If everything goes as planned, I will stick to that schedule.

***Rescue You Masterlist***

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December 2, 9pm.

…My love is afraid of me.

I look at his bedroom and don’t recognize anything. The picture of Dean with his mom is not even in its pretty frame anymore. It’s like the room was padded. I’m dangerous.

           A sudden urge to cry crawls up my spine and I need to see Dean, I know he’s the only one that can kill that panic growing inside of me.

           I turn around and walk toward the library, impatient to hear the only voice that helps me win against those horrible overwhelming feelings and the din inside my head.

           But whispered voices catch the attention even more than screams sometimes, and when I hear Dean talk so low, I start to listen.

“No Sammy, you don’t understand, we don’t have a month or even a week to find one… It’s getting worse…”

“I know Dean” Sam says but my boyfriend cuts him.

“No you don’t know. I… During the night she loses control, last time snakes appeared,Sam ! Freaking snakes ! I have no idea how to deal with that and our feelings for each other won’t be enough for long to hold these powers. She will hurt someone. If… If she hurts me Sam, she will never forgive herself. I know her.”

When tears reach my shirt, I notice it is blood and frown. My hands are shining like hot lava. I have no memories of snakes and… He’s right, I would never forgive myself. I look at him one last time from the shadow and walk back.

           Entering the garage, I look around, I don’t have a driving license, of course I don’t, I wasn’t supposed to leave that shitty town. I have to get away for a time, I will miss him so much and I have no idea how I will deal with this without Sam and Dean, but I can’t take the risk to hurt him. I just can’t. I put my fingers on my temples in a desperate attempt to ease the noises and headache.

           Get away… you’re a danger. You’re a monster…

I close my eyes and sigh, I could drive anyway, but then I would be a danger for everyone again.

 December 2, around noon.

             I regret not taking my phone before I left. I would love to tell Dean I love him but I just can’t be around him lately. I regret not taking a coat or shoes, but not because I’m cold-I’m not with that burning fire inside of me-, just because I can’t hitchhike, take a bus or anything, I would look crazy. But again : dangerous anyway.

           I know where I want to be right now. I want to be in that cabin, my own little home. I saw it grow from its ashes and I have no idea if it was a dream or if I did it for real. I have to see it with my eyes.

           I can picture the inside of my cabin in my head, like I was watching a movie, I can see it so clearly. I start to cry and lift my hands to try and reach it but it’s in my head. The room is exactly how it was when I left it running, the sheets still have Dean’s print and there are bandages everywhere, some of them with Dean’s blood on it. There are food papers and blood stains on the bed.

           I can feel the cold air coming from the poorly insulated window now and the wood under my feet. I close my eyes but still can see everything. The floor where he slept for days before I could move him….

           I touch the sheets and bring them to my nose, it smells like Dean, I take the cover and roll myself in it.

           And when I open my eyes again, I’m in the cabin.

             I stayed for hours in those covers, trying to remember how it was when I wasn’t afraid to hurt Dean, when I did more good than bad. Remembering the beautiful amazed look he gave me when I was patching him up, like it was the first time someone actually took care of him.

But now you are what he hunts…

           I look at the small dusty TV that occupied him for hours, probably preventing him to be totally overwhelmed by pain on the first days. I turn it on, searching the few functioning channels for something like Scooby doo to remind me of nights with him. But I stop on the news.

           They’re talking about that town, mine, where a strange cult has been massacred by maybe some others. It’s on national info. They found hundreds of corpses, something the United States hadn’t seen in decades. A shiver makes me whine when I see the aerial view…

You did that and now you dare coming back here. The cabin may be fixed but everything is destroyed… You should be locked here forever.

I turn it off, curl up in the bed and try to ignore the panic raging deep inside of me. Outside, the night seems to be falling. Weird, I was sure it was still early…

           Darkness wraps me and I try to calm, thinking of Dean, trying to replay some of our moments in my blurry mind, counting in my head the wounds I had to clean every day to distract myself from the storm with a comforting routine…

 December 3, 2am

             “Y/n !” I hear far away. “Y/N !”

I open my eyes, I fell asleep. I’m still in the cabin and the night is totally dark but my eyes can see clearly. I shiver, did I really hear him ?

“Y/n !it’s me !” Dean’s voice becomes clearer.

I get up and take a deep breath, he found me. Of course my baby found me, the cabin was not the best idea to hide. Why is he calling me from so far ?

“Y/n ! I’m begging you, let me enter !”

Maybe he’s in danger, I get up quickly and lift my eyes to the window : It’s totally covered in wood ! Branches tightly mixed, covering it totally. That’s why night seems so dark. I run to the door and open it, but it’s exactly the same, like trees and creepers had grown to wrap the cabin in a box of wood.

“Y/N !” Sam’s voice joins Dean’s and a loud noise makes me take a step back.

They are trying to break the magic wall.

“BABY !” Dean finally calls and my heart starts aching.

“DEAN !” I answer, suddenly having trouble to breathe at the idea that I can’t get out.

Another loud shock.

“Let me in…” his voice has changed, it’s still worried, but there is no panic in it anymore.

“I can’t ! I don’t know how…”

“SAM !” he yells suddenly and I put my hands on the wood.

“What ?” I call. “Dean ?... DEAN !”

I put my head on the wood and start begging I don’t know who. They came here, and now I’m may be hurting them. Please Please Please… Stop !

           The ropes of wood tighten and Dean’s voice becomes further. I start to panic, and the structure of the cabin cracks, like its box was a constrictor snake.

“Oh my God…” I murmur when dust falls off the roof. “No nono… Dean… DEAN!”

He can’t hear me now.

           What have I done ! I can’t control those powers and now the trap is closing. The cabin cracks again and this time the window shatters. My heart beats way faster than humanly possible, and the floor starts to shake, everything falls of the floor.

If Dean dies…

If Sam dies…

If…

My head is spinning and my hair start floating and glowing.

Dean will die.

Sam will die.

You’re the monster they have to put down.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I can’t let that happen, I won’t. I have to think of the good times, I’m the one doing this, that means I can stop it, just like that. I will. I close my fists and struggle hard to hear my thoughts inside of my head.

Dean.

The man I love has a smile like no other, and when we made love for the first time, just here, he gave me one of them. A smile I will always remember, with sweat on his forehead and love in his dilated pupils, his skin was still cold from that shower and his lips were swollen by my kisses. I can’t stop kissing him, I won’t. Ever. I want to see his smile.

The cabin stops cracking but I still can’t hear them outside, the night is still so dark and I pray that I’m not too late.

Please… Let me see him again, let him be safe. I’ll take the burden, I’ll take every blame but let him go home.

A loud noise against the wood again. My love is alive ! I focus even more : When he will reach me, he will put his arms around me, I live for his arms around me, holding me so tight I don’t have to carry any weight.

Another punch on the walls of my wooden prison. The deafening whispers in my head harass me and right now I know I won’t be able to fight that evil for long, a few more days, maybe weeks… But after that, if there is no other way to keep them safe, I will have to end it.

Another punch and something cracks. I just realized I have to kill myself and burning tears roll on my face, evaporating before they reach the floor. I don’t want to die, I just started to live ! I don’t want Dean to loose someone else, but I can’t afford to hurt any of them.

“Y/n !” I finally hear him and a strangled sob escapes me.

“Dean !”

“Baby ! Baby you hear me ?” he half shouts half sighs.

“I’m sorry ! I can’t control it ! I can’t open !” I sob, starting to scratch the wood.

“Hold on ! And don’t panic okay ! I will reach you baby !”

“Where is Sam ?” I ask shakily.

A silence and my heart seems to fall on my lower stomach.

“Dean where is Sam ?”

“He’s… he will be okay, we’ll deal with him later” he growls and I know what is pain when I hear it.

“Oh my God !”

I hurt Sammy.

“Y/n focus on my voice, don’t start panicking. Sam will be okay !”

“I hurt Sam ! Did I… I hurt Sammy ! Oh my God !”

The floor starts to shake again.

He was right to be afraid of you, he wasn’t even careful enough, now it’s too late.

“YOU WERE RIGHT TO BE AFRAID OF ME !” I cry out, feeling that incontrollable wish to close that prison tighter.

           The shocks on the wood stop and it’s like I could feel Dean’s palm on it.

“Y/n… I’m not afraid of you” he says more calmly. “I am afraid for you. Listen to me now. Breathe. It’s going to be okay, we will find a way, we always do, we’re close to find a way…”

I pant, my breathing strangled by panic and he hears me.

“Breathe calmly. You remember when I talked to you about that mark… What was its name ?” he asks to make me focus.

“C-cain” I stammer. “The Mark of Cain.”

“I thought it will never be okay again, just like you do right now. But I got rid of it, it was awful, baby. This force fighting me every second, the urges… But it’s over now. You will find peace too baby… Let me give you peace. I will break that, just stay calm for me.”

           I fall on my knees and the din in my head fades a little. Dean starts hitting the wood again and after a while, a tiny ray of night light pierces the wall of my airtight prison. The hole becomes wider and Dean’s hands finally appear to tear the branches in growls.

           When he can slip in, my love enters and falls on his knees to take me in his arms.

“I’m so sorry” I sob, clinging to him. "Dean I didn't mean... I'm so sorry !"

He hushes me and grabs my face to stare at me with his intense eyes, checking on my face and body, his thumbs grazing my cheekbones. He’s sweaty and out of breath. When he moves his palms just a little on my cheeks, I notice they’re wet and very hot, the smell of blood comes to my nose and I realize he must have open his palms with the branches. But before I can react, he puts his lips on mine.

“Don’t leave me” he pleads against my lips. “ Don't ever leave me again. I’m not afraid of you, and I need you. I won’t lose you.”

“Sam ?” I ask below my breath.

“I called Cas…”

“Tell me Dean. Please.”

You've hurt Sam.

“The branches… Y/n… It’s not your fault…” he looks down.

I get up to run outside, but Dean catches me by the arm quickly, tugging to crush me in his arms, holding me with my head against his chest.

“The branches crushed him like they were snakes. He’s breathing but… I think his bones… his bones are broken. He fainted.”

I grab Dean’s flannel and sob in his arms, muttering pleading apologies in loop.

           And while we wait for Castiel, Dean never lets go.

 December 3, 5pm

             Castiel came and Sam was alive. Dean never wanted me to see him broken, but I can only imagine the amount of pain he went through. After a while, the angel broke more wood in the door frame, and Sam came in, I was in tears, not daring to look at him in the eyes even if he was trying to reassure me.

           After a long talk, I finally told them I needed them to be safe, that I couldn't let it happen, and that it could happen in the bunker too. I suggested that maybe I shouldn’t come back in the bunker just now… Sam agreed. I ignored the pain on my chest, still entertaining the idea of ending it myself. But Dean’s answer was clear : He will stay here with me, until Sam finds a cure.

           I couldn’t fight him long, he was determined and argued that he was the only one that could keep me safe. I was terrified, both by being alone and hurting Dean ; so when he asked me to trust him, I just did.

           Sam went to his car to give us the few snacks he had there, and said he will come back tomorrow, no matter what.

             Now here I am, using that first aid kit that helped so much in the past to take care of my boyfriend's palms. He’s sitting on the bed and I kneeled before him, like I used to do, except this time he's strong and well, mostly. Taking care of him calms me and the light of the old oil lamp too somehow. The delicious smell of Dean is embracing me, keeping the loud whispers at bay for now.

“There is a piece of wood under your skin” I whisper, looking up to find his eyes seaching my face.

“You know I love you right ?” he answers and my heart starts racing like the first time I heard it.

“I know. Thank you so much for loving me…” I look down, still tortured by the guilt.

He chuckles and pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. I tug at the thorn but my wolf barely winces.

“Sam is close to find something…” he smiles while I examine his beautiful strong hands carefully. “He says he could transfer the powers to someone else, turn the spell you used, there is just a little more details to think of.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea” I frown, sincerely worried by that idea.

“We just have to find an evil witch of the Coven, we know some ran.”

“Evil, Dean, that’s the whole problem…” I take bandages to stay focused on taking care of him.

“Yeah but that knocked you up… What if I put a witch killing bullet in her head before she thinks clear again ?” he grins.

“I don’t know…”

“I do” he states. Now come here, it’s still freezing in that cabin, even with, you know... the new weather-proofing” he chuckles.

           I get up and join him on the bed, cuddling against him when he lays down. A loud sigh of relief escapes my lungs and I flatten my palm on his chest to feel his heart.

“I’m going to make love to you all the time when this is fixed” he groans, managing to make me chuckle slightly.

That man is not only the strongest of the world, physically; after all he's been through... his heart also is made of the toughest diamond.

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[minusthemurderfantasies-blog]

“Listen, there is something you gotta know before we go in there.” Erik warned. “I should’ve told you this a long time ago…” My thoughts raced in that pause.  Oh god that pause.  What could he have to tell me?  Was he married? Was this not his apartment? Was he homeless? Did he have a secret Joe Dimaggio bobblehead collection?  Oh god I don’t even know who Joe Dimaggio is? Or was? Is he dead? Can I google that without him noticing?  He saved me from my breakdown.  “How do I say this? My roommate, he’s uh, he’s… he’s a serial killer.”

A euphoric rush gripped my body and I started laughing harder than was socially acceptable.  I managed to regain my composure and reply, completely ignoring his stone-faced expression.  “Geez, you had me worried.  It’s no big deal, people have bad roommates.  I still want to meet him.”

“No you don’t understand, he is legit a serial killer.  He murders people.  What am I doing? I shouldn’t be getting you involved.”  Erik started to walk away from the door.  I put my arm out to block him.

“Nope, you’re not getting out of this that easy.  After all you’ve told me about your roommate I am going to meet him.”  He gave out an exasperated sigh and turned back towards the cheap wooden door.

“Your funeral,” he mumbled to himself. “Let’s just hope not for real this time.”

The lock turned with a rusty squeak and the door swung open and revealed the most stereotypical apartment owned by two twenty-something men.  An off-green sofa sat in the middle of the room in front of a coffee table littered with comics, magazines, and small origami figures.  The couch was flanked on either side by two chairs which could only be described as matching if you completely forgot what matching meant and were also blind.  One was a large recliner style leather seat and the other was a worn wooden chair that one would see in a museum of the earliest American colonists.  Both were probably found on a curb and hauled up to the apartment.  The seating trifecta was opposed by a large CRT TV.  You know the kind that would make your hair stand up and could transmit messages from the spirit world?  Their small kitchenette area was barren and most likely unused.  One wall of the apartment was mostly dusty windows with a poor view over the city.

The most interesting part of the room was the man standing at the other end, tossing darts at a board with casual accuracy.  He looked like the first search result for the word “hipster.”  He looked like he only listened to bands with more syllables in their name than fans.  He looked like the one to bring a complicated board game to a party and insist that everyone play it, no matter how little sense it made.  He did not turn when we entered. “Hey man.  Back so soon?  Did things not go well with whatsherface?”

Erik cleared his throat.  “Actually, Christine is here with me.”  The man spun and froze like a kid with a stutter at a spelling bee.  He raised his hand in a wave and his mouth hung open.  Erik continued, “This is my roommate, James.  James, this is Christine.”

I smiled and shook the embarrassed James’ hand.  “Nice to meet you, James.”

“Nice to meet me.”  Yep, this smooth operator was totally a serial killer.  “Oh wait, no, I mean, uh… oh hey, you’ve got something on your hand.”  I looked down and sure enough there was a red stain where his thumb had been.

Erik, pointed at the door that the dart board hung from.  “There’s a bathroom right over here, you can clean up in there.”  James stepped aside as I hurried into the bathroom without looking back.  What did I get the mark from?  I must have spilled something on me during dinner.  Such a great first impression.  I walked in and closed the door tightly behind me.  Oh god, this room smelled like death poorly covered by expired air freshener.  Okay, take it slow Christine, it’s not that bad.  And I’m sure Erik doesn’t care if I look a little dumb.  I looked into the sink.  Outside I heard James shout, “Wait, no!”  The sink was filled covered in a dark red liquid congealed into globbed.  At the drain lay an oval object covered in the red.  Oh god, is that… a human ear?  The world focused in on that ear.  My ears rang, my knees wobbled.  I did not hear the scream start to escape my throat, I did feel the gust of wind from the door flying open, I only smelt the chemical-scented rag which was clasped over my mouth and nose, I only saw the world go dark.

I awoke to shouting.

“What was that, James?!  You can’t just chloroform my girlfriend!  We have rules about this!”

“No, we have rules about killing your girlfriend.  Chloroforming is okay.”

“Chloroforming is not okay!  That shouldn’t have to be said.  It’s common sense.  Where did you even get chloroform?”

“It’s a mix of rubbing alcohol and bleach.  Look, I did what I had to, if she screams people ask questions and it gets bad.  What was she doing here anyway?”

“It is a perfectly normal thing for a guy to bring his girlfriend to meet his friends.  What was an ear doing in the sink?”

“You consider me your friend?” James’ tone was candid and slightly proud.

“Only because you keep killing the rest of my friends and girlfriends.”

“Name one time.”

“Lauren.”

“That’s not my fault, she wore orange on the sixteenth!”

“Her dress was peach!”

“Fine, name three more.”

“Assad, Cindy, Greg.”

“Assad took up two parking spaces, and you have no proof that I am to blame for Cindy’s disappearance.”

“What about Greg?”

“Greg was a dick, I did you a favor there.”

“Greg taught underprivileged kids music.”

“Yeah, but did he have to be so pretentious about it?  Oh look at me, helping the children, I’m so righteous.”

“You’re a monster.”

“I’m a monster that pays rent.”

“Really, you’re bringing this up now?”

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“Okay how about the fact that there was a human ear in the sink.  What happened to keeping it out of the apartment.  Rule seven James, rule seven.”

They stopped shouting when they noticed me watching them.

Erik started, “How you feelin?”

“What. The. Fuck. Erick?  ‘How you feelin?’  Really?  Is that be best you can do.  There is a dismembered body part in that bathroom and you want to know how I’m feeling?  I’m feeling scared, I’m feeling confused, I’m feeling pissed the fuck off.”

“I… I tried to warn-”

“Oh no, don’t you dare tell me you told me so.  I thought you were kidding and you didn’t stop me.  How could you bring me here?  How could you live with this freak?”

“Don’t call me that,” James growled.

“What, you don’t want me to call you a freak?  I’m sorry, I should be more considerate of the fucking murderer.  You are a sick, psychotic freak.  So what, you’re going to kill me too now?  Am I just going to become another ear in your sink?”  I glared at Erik with disgust. “Is that why you brought me here?  Am I just another victim?”

“It’s not like that Christine.  We made rules for him, he doesn’t kill anyone I know.  He only kills bad people.”

“Oh great, he’s like fucking Dexter.  And from what I hear his track record isn’t too good with that anyway.”

“That was before the rules.  Trust me, you’re safe.”

“Trust you?”  I shook my head in disgust and stood up.  “Goodbye Erik, have fun in jail.”  I strode towards the door.  I felt air rush pash my hair and heard a loud thunk as a knife embedded itself in the door.

“Sit down,” James commanded, his hand already grabbing at one of the knives at his belt.  I obeyed.  “Now shut up and listen.”  Erik tried to intercede but James silenced him with a glare.  “You are not a victim.  As far as I am concerned you are a friend.  Your protection continues until that ceases to be true.  Now going to the police and turning us in is not something a friend would do.  If I see you climbing the steps to the precinct, you will be dead before you reach the top; if I hear you calling the cops, you will be missing by the time the operator picks up.  Do you understand me?”  I nodded, too scared to breathe.  “You have learned a lot today, and I don’t expect you to like all of it.  However, you will live with it.  Understood?”  This time I managed to whisper a meek affirmation.  “Good, well in that case I am going to bed.  Erik, would you please drive Christine home?  Good night and good luck.”  And with that James retreated into one of the room and slammed the door behind him.

Erik and I did not speak the entire drive back to my apartment.  The silence was too thick to be cut.  The dark of the city was oppressive.  I shrank with each shadow and rejoiced in the light.  That car ride may have been the longest of my life.  Finally, like hikers summiting Mount Everest, we reached my apartment building.  I unbuckled and fled the car without waiting for Erik.  I locked the door, slid the bolt, and checked each window securely.  When I was ensured of my isolation I fell upon my bed into a deep sleep.

I awoke beneath my sheets refreshed and anew.  Free from the nightmare that plagued the night before.  That’s what it had to be right?  A nightmare?  I would tell Erik all about it today.  He would enjoy it, he always enjoyed hearing about my dumb dreams.  My relief was short lived.  Its end was marked by my heart stopping for several beats.  There upon my dresser, something that was not there the night before.  I approached the dread object like a parent in a horror movie approaching their child’s crib.  Sitting amongst frames filled with family and sanguine memories was a leatherbound journal.  Laying on top of the journal was a note:

“Sorry for snapping last night.  It’s going to be rough, but here’s a friend that you can talk to

-James”

    And that was the beginning of my friendship with a serial killer.