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hiddendreamer67 · 4 years

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Tears of Fear- The Witcher

Summary: Geralt wakes up to Jaskier crying over his ‘corpse’ and realizes Jaskier is afraid of him.

Word count: 2,102

Had a lot of fun with this, it’s actually my first witcher fic! Feel free to send in more prompts from my bingo card below! Also check out my writing blog @hiddendreamerwriting for more of my work!

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Jaskier was crying.

This was the first thing Geralt processed as he slowly began to wake up from his restless slumber. He was sobbing like a babe, making Geralt cringe as he heard the bard all but wipe his nose on Geralt’s shoulder.

Quickly Geralt became aware of a few other important factors, grimacing through the spike of pain that came rushing back to him. His ribs were definitely cracked, he could feel them slowly melding together beneath his chest. Geralt’s leg was on fire, bent at an angle no human- or witcher- bones should bend. His abdomen felt torn to shreds, and if he looked down Geralt was sure his innards were being exposed to the outside world.

There was a pounding in his skull, a side effect of bashing his skull against a rock, if he recalled correctly. Being used as a ragdoll by a Griffin was not an experience he hoped to encounter again. Had he killed it? He hoped he killed it, for the sake of not doing this twice.

Taking another assessment of his wounds, Geralt knew they would be fatal for a mortal man. Overkill, really; but he’d live. Maybe.

“Fuck.” Geralt hissed, and all of a sudden Jaskier gave a shriek right in his ear, quickly scurrying back from Geralt’s form.

And this was when Geralt realized a third important piece of information: Geralt took in a big whiff of air, recognizing a scent that had been present ever since he woke up.

Jaskier was afraid.

In all the years they had travelled together, Jaskier had never once shown fear towards Geralt- and now, the man reeked of it. It was the witcher’s fault, he assumed. He had let the bard get too close. Seeing Geralt in the throes of a proper battle, seeing the witcher in his primal beast mode as he threw himself and the griffin off the cliff, it had awoken that self-preservation instinct in Jaskier. Finally, Jaskier recognized he was a monster.

“Melitele’s tits, what the fuck?!” Jaskier shrieked again, clawing briefly at the tree behind him to gain distance before seeming to get a grip. He clutched at his heart, which Geralt could hear beating far too rapidly. “I- you- how the fuck- I thought you were dead!”

“Not… yet.” Geralt grit his teeth, growling to get through the pain. “Potion bag. Blue.”

Thankfully, even in his fearful state Jaskier seemed to take some form of pity on him. That, or Jaskier was too frightened to not do as the witcher said. The second was more likely as Jaskier quickly dug through the bag, grabbing the potion and pouring it into Geralt’s mouth with trembling hands.

Geralt grunts his appreciation, feeling the potion take effect. It wasn’t playing nice with the potion already in his system, but Geralt would survive.

“You- you’re okay now, right?” Jaskier cursed under his breath, his tears welling up again. “Of course you’re bloody not, look at you! Why your intestines are all dangling, are they supposed to- oh gods, I’m gonna be sick.”

“Jaskier.” Geralt murmurs, closing his eyes.

“What can I do, Geralt?” Jaskier’s hand is hovering just above his shoulder, touching it briefly as if afraid now to even make contact with such a demon. “I’m no healer, you have to tell me what you need. Another potion? One of the glowy ones?”

“Jaskier.” Geralt repeats, feeling his body drifting back into unconsciousness. “Shut up.”

---

The next time Geralt wakes up, Jaskier is crying again.

This time not on him, thankfully. Instead he’s sniveling to himself across the clearing, head tucked between his knees. Geralt isn’t certain how long he’s been out, but before it was just past dusk and now only the faintest bit of moonlight trickles through the trees, indicating it’s well indo the night. Perhaps he had been unconscious an entire day.

“Jaskier.” Geralt calls, startling the bard into looking his way. That scent of fear is still there.

“Y-yes?” Jaskier hurries to make himself presentable, trying to peer through the darkness. He isn’t gifted with the same night vision Geralt has.

“Potion.” Geralt manages to spit the word out without sounding pathetic, so that’s a bonus. The only reason he’s awake now is yet another burst of pain, a clear sign the last potion wore off. He’s not feeling great about relying on intimidating his best friend to get him through the night.

“Right, right, yes, of course.” Jaskier stumbles to his feet, feeling around cautiously for the potions bag. “Yes, that would- that makes sense, right? You just need these and you’ll… oh shit, I can’t make out the shades in this light. Can you? Is this the right one?”

Jaskier trods over, placing one uncomfortably close to Geralt’s eyeball. He grunts.

“Geralt, in life or death situations you really need to use your words-”

“Yes.” Geralt huffs.

Jaskier sighs, pulling the cork and easing the mixture into Geralt’s mouth as he continues to ramble. “So, you’re going to be alright? Just a few of these to fix you right up? I hope. I didn’t check, didn’t want to… well forgive me for not wanting to see, you’re quite a sight Geralt.”

“Hmm.” Geralt thought that was putting it lightly. He had been run out of towns for less.

“Are you going to… need more of these?” Jaskier asked, his scent spiking as he peered into the potions bag. “I don’t- if you tell me what to gather, I can try, but I’m not certain what it is you witchers put in these. Nearest town is a day’s ride, but I doubt roach will let me leave your side, and of course I’m not eager either-”

Geralt didn’t reply. Before Jaskier had finished his sentence, he had passed out once more.

---

The third time Geralt woke, Jaskier wasn’t crying.

The sun was high in the sky, illuminating the bard who was sitting against a tree, strumming a tuneless chord that was far from cheerful. That bitter scent of fear lingered in the air. Regardless, Jaskier met Geralt’s gaze, giving the witcher a pitiful smile.

“You’re awake.” Jaskier stood up, setting his lute to the side. “Again. Not sure if you’ll even remember all this when you fully wake up. Potion, I assume?”

“Mmm.” Geralt made a noise of agreement, reassessing his wounds. He still felt like shit, but if he was willing to put up with a whole lot of pain Geralt could stand. He could take care of himself.

“Right then, here you are.” Jaskier was at his side in moments, pouring the potion down his throat. “That’s it, nice and easy. Wonder what this stuff tastes like, anyhow- for your sake I hope it’s blueberry or something.”

Geralt didn’t bother giving that a response, swallowing down the last of it. He could feel it taking hold, easing his mangled body back together like the mutated atrocity it was.

“Well, nighty night, dear witcher.” Jaskier sighed.

Geralt looked at the bard. The man looked pale, clearly lacking proper sleep. It was clear he had been neglecting himself in favor of staying at Geralt’s side, frightened of what might happen if Geralt woke up alone.

“Jaskier.” Geralt caught the bard’s attention. “I’m fine.”

Jaskier spared a glance at the rest of Geralt’s body, grimacing. “Well you and I have different definitions of fine, I can tell you that. Your witcher drugs seem to be helping, i’ll be the first to admit, but I can assure you that is not how a man’s stomach should look-”

“I’ll heal.” Geralt cut him off. “I can manage. You’re free to leave.”

Jaskier shook his head. “Geralt, my dear, it is becoming increasingly obvious you have suffered brain damage.” Jaskier assured him, brushing the hair out of Geralt’s face. “No doubt about it, you’re as loony as a duck.”

Geralt gritted his teeth. “I’m of perfectly sound mind.”

“Oh really?” Jaskier’s dramatic attitude made it clear he wasn’t believing a word. “Because ‘perfectly sound’ individuals don’t ask to be abandoned in the woods with fatal injuries. Perhaps if there were a danger about - which would be very valiant and very stupid of you, I must add- , but the only danger here is the rotting corpse of a griffin you conquered several days ago. Which stinks, by the way.”

“There’s no reason for you to stay.” Geralt insisted, and Jaskier looked as though he’d been slapped across the face.

“No- no reason?!” Jaskier sputtered. “I thought after all these years you’d have a bit of faith in your best friend! The bar’s a lot lower than I thought if- if leaving your friend to die is acceptable behavior to you. Gods, I’m glad i’m not the one injured-”

“Shut UP, Jaskier!” Geralt all but roars, and it’s a testament to Jaskier’s bravery that the call of a monster doesn’t increase the smell of his fear. Jaskier isn’t getting it. He refuses to understand. Why must he make Geralt spell out the painful truth?

“...I know you want to leave.” Geralt murmurs. “I won’t hold you here any longer.”

Jaskier pauses, taking a moment to try and read Geralt’s expression. “What in all the glorious fields of the world makes you think I want to leave?”

Geralt grits his teeth. “Because you’re afraid of me.”

It’s quiet just a moment too long.

“What?” Jaskier gives a half laugh, clearly torn between making a joke and treating this seriously. “Geralt, I know you’ve got a lovely head wound, but think about what you’ve said for just a moment. Why would I be following you across half the continent if I was afraid? I’ve had plenty of opportunities to scurry away with my tail between my legs, but no! I treasure your company, bland as it may be at times, and not just for the stories we experience.” Jaskier grimaced, looking at the griffin carcass across the way. “Not that i’m particularly fond of this particular one, I must admit.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Geralt murmurs, perplexed for a moment when he can sense Jaskier isn’t lying. “I can smell it on you.”

“You can- so that’s just a witcher thing, huh? Smelling fear?” Jaskier raises an eyebrow. “Every new thing about witchers I learn is so bizarre. Lovely, mind you, but- wow. Alright, fine then. So how long have you been smelling this fear on me? Have I been scurrying after you terrified out of my wits and not even knowing it?”

“No.” Geralt admitted.

“Ha! So you see?” Jaskier looked rather proud of himself. “It mustn’t be fear then, you’ve just caught some part of my natural musk. Er, not that my musk is particularly frightened- you know what I mean. Your witcher senses fail you, my dear fellow.”

“No.” Geralt growled, frustrated. “It was new. Few days ago, after the attack.”

“... oh.” Jaskier froze, a haunted expression taking over his usually cheerful features. The bard took a deep breath, meeting Geralt’s gaze. “Geralt, you wonderful witcher... you are one of the most foolish people on the entire continent.”

Geralt gave a low warning growl.

“I have never, ever been afraid of you, and I never will.” Jaskier insisted, his jaw set in his declaration. “And you know what? Yes, I was very afraid that evening, and every day since. But I was afraid for the same reason I stayed by your unconscious form all these days, and it’s the same reason I cried over what I thought was your corpse. I’m afraid of losing you, Geralt.”

The witcher paused, never expecting such a response.

“I sat by, trying my damndest to nurse you back to health, not knowing what the hell I could even do.” Jaskier had tears once again pooling in the corners of his eyes, but he brushed them away in a hurry. “Each time you went back to your slumber, I didn’t even know if you’d wake again. But each time you were conscious gave me hope, made me realize you were still holding on. I know witchers are hardier than the rest of us, but good lord you really gave fate a run for her money, Geralt!”

“It takes more than that to kill a witcher.” Geralt furrowed his brow, not sure how to deal with this level of concern. He had never had another person so invested in whether or not he died. Even with his fellow witchers, it was always common knowledge that one day they’d die along the Path.

“And I never want to learn exactly how much it takes.” Jaskier shuddered at the thought.

#badthingshappenbingo #the witcher #tears of fear #jaskier #geralt #extreme injuries #don't worry everybody lives here

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strawberryjmilk · 6 years

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the last stop | wen junhui

word count: 4058

non idol!au, college!au - kinda

based on the thai drama girl from nowhere

imagine contains talk of death and mentions of blood - please be cautious!

"Are you sure about this?" I teased. The girl let out a sob - her hands were coated in blood and the body in front of her lay still. Her breath was shaky when she met my gaze. "You do realize the consequences, don't you?"

I always had to ask - had to make sure they knew what they were risking. Because, sometimes, the things they gained weren't worth it.

"Just help me," she growled. She squealed, rubbing her hands to get the blood off. A water bottle popped up beside her - she didn't hesitate to use it nor did she thank me. "This is your fault anyways, Y/N. So you have to help me."

"Mm, it wasn't my fault," I hummed. The dagger she used was in my hands as I twirled it around. She seemed to grow pale at the sight of it. "I wasn't the one who stabbed the boy, now was I? I just asked if you were sure he wasn't cheating. I didn't catch him in the act."

"But you lured him out here," she argued. She glanced around - the alley we were in was deserted and would be for a while. She still had time to run and escape the blame.

"I don't remember that," I shrugged. I wanted to laugh as I watched her become more frantic. Truly, with me by her side, she shouldn't have worried so much. "I was just asking a classmate for help. He took the study session a little too seriously."

"You planted the idea!" She finally broke. Sobs became louder as she curled into herself. "Everything was okay until you showed up! When you arrived, everything went haywire. Everyone worshiped you and they listened to you and they adored you. Who the hell are you, Y/N?"

I only smiled coyly. She looked up at me, mascara clouding with the tears that were falling down her cheeks. A deep breath accompanied with a shrug. "I'm just Y/N, your new classmate."

—

A bell chimed as soon as I opened the door. I knew I was late, but I also knew that would draw attention to me. Smirking, I continued to sway down the hallway until I found the room I was looking for. The door squeaked open, and I was now the center of attention.

"Sorry I'm late," I called out meekly. Heads turned towards me so I beamed shyly. Let's play the innocent schoolmate this time, I thought to myself. The professor walked up to me, her heels clacking as she walked.

"Ah, yes," she nodded. I watched as she took in my figure - a few seconds in and someone already dislikes me. The thought caused me to smile more. "You must be Y/N. Well, you can sit anywhere you'd like. And, I expect you to be here on time tomorrow."

"Of course," I said gently. My eyes scanned the room, looking for the darkest smog I could find. I couldn't see a lot - in fact, most of the class was clean. That made my job that much harder. I finally sighed, taking a seat beside a boy with blonde hair.

"Hi," he greeted. He's nice looking, I observed. He barely had any smoke around him, too. But, he seemed devious and that stood out to me. "I'm Jeonghan. Nice to meet you, Y/N. I hope you enjoy your time with our class."

"Thank you," I smiled. He seemed stunned for a minute before he smiled back. Not easy to impress, huh? "I hope it's enjoyable, too."

If it wasn't, this would just be a waste of time.

—

I'd stuck with Jeonghan for a week. He had the darkest smog, and I realized it was just because he gossiped. This school seems pointless, I thought annoyed.

I was sitting with Jeonghan at lunch when he laughed. Quirking an eyebrow, I looked at him curiously. Jeonghan leaned towards me, ignoring his friends as he showed me his phone.

"It's a class forum," Jeonghan explained. I scrolled through, seeing what seemed to be confessions. Bingo, I thought. They're all clean because they've confessed their crimes. How intriguing.

"All of the students have the password," Hansol said. He was an odd character - quiet, but observant. He was dangerous for me. "We log on and say whatever we want anonymously. No one knows who says what."

"Interesting," I spoke lowly. Maybe my job just got a little easier. Jeonghan told me the password so I now had access to the forum. He chuckled again, gaining my attention.

"Everyone seems to be talking about you," Jeonghan smirked. This caused a few of the people at the table to turn red. Just what were they saying about me? I peeked at the latest post that had my name written all over it.

Have you guys seen Y/N? I've never known a new student to gather so much attention!

Seems like Y/N is gaining attention on purpose. Can you spell out whore any clearer? — Just say you're jealous and go!

Y/N is so hot - we met eyes and I melted on the spot.

Have you seen how short Y/N's shorts are? — You mean have I seen how great Y/N's legs are? I think I drooled.

Total slut.

Y/N has been sticking with Yoon Jeonghan recently - I wonder what's going on there. — They would be such a hot couple, but I want Y/N for myself!

"Huh," I laughed. Only a week, these kids were quick. Maybe, just maybe, I'd just hit the jackpot with this college. I looked at Jeonghan, feigning confusion. "How can so many people say such mean things about me? I barely speak to anyone other than you."

"You're different," a new voice piped up. I looked down the table to see Wen Junhui. I knew him well - at least, I knew the way his eyes rolled and how his lip curled into a snarl. He seemed to be the most disinterested person in this school - in everything, including me.

"Different how?" I asked. Junhui was new territory - the brunette hadn't spoken to me before now. Snide comments here and there, sure. But, never directly to me. His eyes, I discovered, were always hidden and pointed to the ground.

"You're new," Junhui shrugged. He only looked up once, and even then he didn't meet my gaze. Now, though, his eyes were piercing through me like he was unveiling each secret I held. "You come here an only a few days in, you've got everyone's attention. All eyes are on you, Y/N. So, how're you going to handle that?"

For someone with an almost white liner, Wen Junhui really knew how to get under peoples skin.

—

This was getting harder - I thought coming to a larger college would make everything easier. But, that seemed to blow up in my face because it was my second week here and everyone still seemed to be a subtle gray. I didn't need off-white half-smiles; I needed charcoal glares and snarled lips.

Honestly, how could a school be so fake that even its students pretended they were angels? Then again, even some angels fall.

Walking to class was becoming an ordinary routine - I don't like ordinary. Ordinary meant repetitive which meant I was becoming used to this place and it's people. Which, in hindsight, was dangerous for me.

A sigh left my lips as I sat at the desk that was assigned to me. We didn't really have a set sitting arrangement; we always just sat in the same spot closer to our friends. My friend, in this case, was Jeonghan.

Jeonghan - the same boy who always liked to skip this class to giggle in the boys bathroom with his friends. I sighed again, rolling my eyes. College boys are just as mature as middle schoolers.

"This weekend?" A voice brought me from my dark thoughts. Like bashing this guy's head against the window because he whines when he speaks. "I don't know if I can make it..."

"Oh, c'mon, man!" His friend tsked. He slapped his friends arm playfully - still looked like it hurt, though. "Bora will be there - and she's bringing her friends!"

"Oh, shit," the first guy breathed. He took in a deep breath before nodding erratically. "Suddenly my schedule is clear and all I can think about is going to a party on Saturday."

I realized that I wasn't the only one listening in on the conversation. Right in front of me, a girl was clenching her teeth. Her grip was hard on her pen, her fingers growing pale as she held the blue ink pen. I quirked an eyebrow - was this a love triangle or just unrequited?

I received my answer when she turned to the right, facing the boys from before. They paused their chortling, looking at her in shock. The girl opened her mouth, "can you shut the hell up? Some of us are actually trying to learn. Nothing that your empty brains would understand."

How amusing, I smirked. My eyes drifted, meeting a pool of warm coffee. Junhui looked from the guys and to the girl. Then, his eyes came back to mine, curiosity swimming around his pupils.

I only smirked more. Jealousy is always a humans fatal flaw.

—

Alcohol seemed to be a permanent stench as I stepped foot into the house. Parties were my exact territory - I knew how to play my cards and I knew who to talk to. Maybe this party was what I needed - no one made a good decision when they weren't sober.

And, there they were. In a heated session, lips clashing together, sat a boy and a girl. From a small distance, there seemed to be an outside party. A girl, watching the couple with gritted teeth and empty hands. Jackpot.

"You look like you need this," I spoke. She didn't even look as she took the cup from my hands, downing it in one go. That caused me to grin - I could be out of here in no time. "Let me guess, childhood crush? They always seem to go for the pretty face with no backstory."

Her shoulders slumped, her eyes growing teary and dark. I sighed, leaning against the wall beside her with a sad facade. "It's tragic, really. He wouldn't even glance at you twice but he only looked at her once. But, how would he know about your feelings if you never speak up?"

Leaning in closer, I watched as she began to nod slowly. My smile grew - just one more push. Her hair brushed against my lips as I whispered in her ear, "so speak up."

Imagine my surprise when the expected fight turned into the three of them lip-locking.

"Dammit," I hissed. I threw the empty cup down, glaring at the three of them. Flashes of cameras and promised rumors didn't even settle my frustration. "You're kidding me. When the hell are these pricks going to let me leave?"

"You can leave whenever you want," a voice sang. To my left stood Wen Junhui, eyes half-lidded and an empty smile on his face. He leaned closer, but I knew it was only because he didn't have proper balance. "No ones making you stay here, Y/N. By the way, you have rough language for someone who's so nice and dainty, huh?"

It was mocking - he was mocking me.

"Shut up, asshole," I groaned. Junhui just giggled - full out giggled like a kindergartner who received extra juice. I rolled my eyes - it's not like I can just leave empty handed. "And worry about yourself. You can barely stand on your own - who are you to critique my language?"

He didn't speak. Chocolate eyes dulled for a second as he looked away, seemingly in a daze. Junhui grinned then, latching his fingers around my wrist as he skipped outside. He sat down, pulling me with him as we sat side-by-side on the back porch.

Junhui turned to me, beaming, "tell me a secret, Y/N."

"Like what?" I licked my lips. Junhui's eyes traced the motion - he was more open when he was drunk and it made me crack a smile. "You're drunk, Junhui."

He pouted, "not too bad, I swear!" Junhui took another gulp of the alcohol he had, nose scrunching lightly. He sighed, "isn't it good that I'm drunk? That way, I won't remember your secret!"

I paused, "only if you tell me one of yours."

"Deal!" Junhui cheered. I had to laugh - the boy was cheerful and maybe just a little breathtaking when he smiled. Junhui paused, thinking for a second as he swayed lightly. His shoulder bumped against mine briefly and I had to hold what I thought as his warmth seeped into me. He spoke after a pause, "you first!"

"Hm," I playfully began to stroke my chin. I couldn't actually tell him a secret - I'm pretty sure 'hey Junhui, I'm only here to wreak havoc!' wouldn't go very well even if he was drunk. But, I could indulge in human things - seeing him grin mindlessly was worth it, I guessed. "I can see things."

"Oh?" He quirked up an eyebrow. Junhui took another sip of his drink sloppily - I don't think he realized the cup was empty. "Like what? Ghosts? Colors as sounds? Eyes?"

"None of the above," my grin was matching his now. This was bad - Wen Junhui's entire presence was beginning to seep into me, intoxicating even the smallest parts of my brain. This is really, really bad.

Junhui pouted, "you promised to tell me."

I bit my lip again - it wasn't really exposing anything, right? "I can see auras, I guess you would call them. Everyone has this... fog surrounding them that's either black or white or - more commonly - gray."

"What's that even mean, Y/N?" Junhui whined. He leaned his head back, groaning. "You're lying to me, aren't you?"

"I'm not lying," I beamed. How did such a cute boy become even cuter when he was intoxicated? "It helps to know if the person is bad or good. But, most people are in-between."

I paused, biting my lip. Smiling, I met Junhui's gaze, "want to know something?"

Junhui nodded quickly, clutching his head after like he was dizzy.

"Everyone here has a shade of gray," I turned my focus back to the house, eyes dotting around the people inside. Junhui copied my act, squinting like he was trying to see what I could. "Except for you. You, Wen Junhui, have almost a purely white outline."

"Woah," Junhui gaped. His eyes were as wide as his mouth - it made me chuckle softly. Whether he believed me or not, I didn't know, but he seemed occupied for the time being.

"Your turn," I nudged him after a minute.

Nodding, Junhui took another sip of his drink. This time he noticed it was empty, frowning before throwing it across the yard. I laughed loudly, almost not catching Junhui's matching giggle.

"Okay," Junhui sighed. He prepared himself, nodding a few times like he was giving a pep talk. It was amusing to watch - like he was preparing to give his life away. Junhui's eyes met mine and they were softer than I'd ever seen them - a pool of hot coffee on a cold day that welcomed me home. "I think I have a small, little crush on you."

Leaning closer, Junhui giggled again, his breath fanning across my nose. He smiled, "and I really like how you say my full name. I really, really like it, Y/N."

He collapsed into a fit of giggles, legs kicking up as he wiggled around. My laugh and smile faded - this is so, so bad. I can't have ties here; I can't stay here. I have to leave.

After a while, I got up. Junhui was humming to himself, hand up as he traced the stars. I have to leave him.

—

There were documents he had seen. Things online that spoke of a new student right before a school was in the middle of a scandal. Class photos of someone he was growing very familiar with.

Wen Junhui couldn't allow his eyes to leave the screen for a second.

His gaze drifted - from the computer to his phone and around the library to make sure no one had seen him. He couldn't believe it - truthfully, when he woke up with a hangover, he thought he'd dreamt his entire conversation with me. I could see him looking back at me from time-to-time during class, not bothering with notes as he wondered if he'd actually spoken to me at the party.

But now, he was certain there was something off about me. Maybe I needed to leave sooner than expected.

When Junhui turned his focus to the screen again, I peeped out from behind the bookshelf I hid behind. I sighed - I could only imagine the things he was seeing. Junhui shook his head - I don't think he'd closed his gaping mouth once. I knew all too well what the articles said.

JANITOR CAUGHT PLACING HIDDEN CAMERAS IN AIR VENTS AT LOCAL HIGH SCHOOL!

TEACHER ADMITS TO BUYING AND SELLING DRUGS TO STUDENTS!

LAW SUIT FILED AGAINST PRINCIPAL FOR STEALING FUNDRAISER MONEY!

Those were only the cases close to here, of course. And, right with the articles, I knew the pictures that were there. Me, with a class of students all wearing matching uniforms and smiles. A picture of me standing with other students, secrets hidden in our gazes.

I wondered if Junhui realized they were all actually me, or if he thought they were someone else.

Oddly, a small amount of fear filtered through me. Looping around my ribs until it settled directly on my heart - I didn't want to leave him, I realized. I didn't want him to find out about me; I feared he would fear me.

And I really, really didn't want that.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned against the bookshelf, out of view from everyone. My thoughts tilted and spun, not settling on one conclusion. I could stay here until my job is done - until I've exposed someone in this school. Or, I could leave. My first and only unfinished job; I could leave it behind. Leave Wen Junhui behind.

I didn't like either option.

"You weren't lying," it was a statement. I hadn't heard him walk up, but Wen Junhui was now standing directly in front of me. His eyebrows were furrowed, knuckles almost turning white as he clutched his phone. Clearing his throat, Junhui met my eyes. "About seeing aura's. You were telling the truth, weren't you?

I simply nodded. Junhui sighed, looking down again as he, too, nodded. He gulped - I was anxious to see what he would say.

"Was it you?"

I paused - I should lie to him. It shouldn't have been possible to know everyone's secrets; to know the darkest thoughts some people didn't know they hid. But, I made it possible. I just nodded again.

"Are you leaving soon?" Junhui's voice was soft. I imagined his eyes to match how sad he sounded.

"I don't have an answer to that," I replicated his tone. Junhui moved in slowly, my back melting into the bookcase as his shoes tapped against mine. His hands hovered before they fell onto the shelf beside my head. Junhui glanced up slowly.

"You can't leave, not yet."

I didn't want to.

—

"So," Jeonghan beamed at me as I sat down. A quick glance to Junhui - he was already looking at me. "What's that about?"

I shrugged, "what's what about?" I looked at Junhui again - he smiled gently at me before turning away.

"That!" Jeonghan laguhed. The boy looked like he was about to implode he was bouncing and grinning so much. "Since when are you and Jun so close? You would be so cute, though - two mysterious beings just lingering in the corner of a room. Wait, that sounds creepy - you're like-"

I didn't even look at Jeonghan as I spoke. "You're rambling."

He rolled his eyes, huffing before grabbing my attention. Jeonghan's smile became fainter, more delicate as he looked at me. "Y/N, the way that boy looks at you - it definitely is something. And the way you smile at him - you've never glowed brighter, Y/N. The smallest interaction and it's like the two of you are heart eyes personified."

I don't think I could respond even if I knew what to say.

A movement outside caught my attention before the scream did. Everyone rushed to see what happened, but the ice that was traveling up my lungs gave me a hint. I looked idly in front of me - the girl from the party, her chair's empty.

I stood up slowly, mindlessly walking to the windows as people around me began crying. A glance down - it wasn't her. Rather, the other girl at the party - the one she was jealous of - was on the ground bleeding out. She wouldn't survive.

A warm hand wrapped around mine. Junhui seemed to sculpt himself around me, his free arm looping around my hips tenderly. He took a look out of the window, wincing before turning away. His breath fanned against my cheek as he leaned in to whisper in my ear. "Was this your doing?"

"I'm not sure," it seemed the longer I stayed here, the more uncertain I became.

A ding echoed simultaneously throughout the room. Everyone paused, looking at their phones. Gasps filtered around the room before the whispers started. Someone had updated the forum.

I pushed her.

—

An ambulance was called even though it was already too late. Sirens circled around the atmosphere, everything else dulling out as it seemed I couldn't focus on anything else. Warmth seemed to sprinkle around me again as Junhui intertwined his hand with mine.

He nudged my head to the side where a police car came into view. Being lead by handcuffs was my classmate, her face void of any emotion. Her eyes met mine - the numb cage gave away as acceptance began to show.

She didn't look away from me even after the car door was shut.

—

He was sitting in front of me, eyes always cast away from mine. Wen Junhui was silent as he played with his fingers, legs crossed as he almost folded into himself. I cleared my throat - nothing.

I sighed, "Jun."

"Junhui," he corrected. Junhui glimpsed at me briefly, sending a small smile my way. "I told you I like how you say my name, didn't I?"

"Junhui," I spoke sarcastically. But he still grinned that dumb, lovesick grin that I was starting to get used to. "You just dragged me over here with no explanation other than we should sit down. What do you want?"

He took a minute, eyebrows furrowing as he ran through his thoughts. Junhui opened his mouth a few times before shaking his head and thinking again. After a long pause, he spoke quietly. "I want you to stay."

"Junhui-"

"I know you can't," he interrupted me. He held his eyes to mine, slowly grasping one of my hands into his own. "For whatever bizarre reason, you have to do this. But, I just need to know if you want to stay. If you could, would you stay? With me?"

I didn't have to ponder the question long, "if I could, I would."

Junhui grinned, "that's all I need to know."

He was quick to lean in, his nose briefly bumping against mine. The kiss was smooth and I found myself wishing that I freeze time. I wanted to stay in this moment; live in the warmth Junhui was surrounded in. I just wanted to stay - but we both knew I couldn't. We pulled away, still lingering and melting against each other as we caught our breath.

Junhui kissed my forehead softly, "come back to me."

I hummed, leaning into him even more. This time, I had a reason. I told myself to never hover around a city for too long; to never linger. Yet, here I was, tangled and locked into a boy who's aura was the purest I'd seen.

"I'll see you again," it was a promise.

—

this! is! a! monster! hhhh this took forever and im so sorry! anywho, i hope you enjoyed this! the drama its based on is really dark, but 12/10 recommend the loml, nanno,,, thank you for reading, ♡♡

#wen junhui imagine #wen junhui oneshot #wen junhui au #wen junhui scenario #seventeen jun imagine #seventeen imagines #seventeen oneshot #seventeen au #seventeen scenarios #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop oneshots #kpop imagines #My Imagines

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hannahindie · 6 years

Text

Breathe - Part 7 (Final)

Pairing: Dean x Reader Series Warnings: Fatal illness, character death, blood, canon violence, language, eventual smut, kidnapping. Word Count: 2,072 Square Filled: Fatal Illness Summary: Y/N, Dean, and Sam find themselves in an impossible situation, and Y/N remembers a conversation that might just save them. A/N: This is the seventh and final part of my SPN Angst Bingo Card series, hosted by @spnangstbingo. I have absolutely adored writing this and sharing it with you, and I hope you all have enjoyed it as much as I have. Thank you for all the kind words and shares and love ya’ll have sent my way.

My beautiful twinny, @pinknerdpanda: “ MOTHERFUCKING DAMMIT HANNAH!“ (I’m still laughing, I’m sorry, twinny.)

And my dear, sweet angel baby @masksandtruths: “ Frickin frack Hannah!”

Thanks go to them for helping a girl out so that her words make sense. I owe a lot to both of you.

As always, tags are at the bottom. If you’d like to be added, please let me know.

It’s funny what comes to mind when you know you're getting ready to die. There’s this nudge, almost a tickle of a memory, and I can almost grab it. It's right there, a shadow of something important that I need to remember. I've almost got it when I feel someone shake my shoulder.

I want to ignore it, because whatever this is, it's important, like live saving important, but the shake comes again, this time with a familiar, rumbling voice, and whatever it is that I'm trying to remember slips out of my grasp.

“C’mon, just...let me sleep, huh?” I mumble, moving my head away from whoever is touching me.

“Y/N, you gotta wake up.” It's Dean, and I feel his palm against my cheek. “Please, we have to get out of here.”

I open my eyes slowly, the drugs still dulling my senses, “Why...how'd you get here? She sent you to a gas station…” I shake my head and his hand moves to my neck as he takes in my bruised face.

“I can tell when something is up. You'd never ask me to come get you like that, even if you were wrong to leave.”

“It's a trap, there are at least five of them...how'd you find me?” Nothing is making sense, and I'm beginning to think it's not really Dean; someone is impersonating him as a cruel joke on a dying girl.

“Sam tracked your phone.” He moves around and starts working on the knotted ropes, “Dumbass outside still had it turned on, so we followed it straight here.” My arms fall free but I don't have the energy to do much more than let them dangle. He moves around to my ankles, “What happened? Why did you leave?”

“I...I don't know,” I sigh, “I heard you praying. Cas isn't coming, and I just...I couldn't let you watch me waste away. Cancer is hateful, Dean. It’ll take over everything until there's nothing left. I couldn't do that to you.”

He looks up at me, his eyes shining, “That's not your decision to make. I would rather be by your side until the end than to lose what little time we have left-”

“How touching.” Margaret’s southern drawl interrupts, “I wish I had more time to watch this little show, but there is revenge to be had.” I look up to see her in the doorway, her eyes narrowed as she stares at us. She jerks her chin and Dean is flung across the room and into the wall. He hits the floor with a strangled grunt then struggles to his knees.

“You've got to have more fight in you than that. Are you gonna fight for your girl or not?”

“Listen, bitch-” he's cut off by a flick of her wrist, choking as she forces him against the wall.

“I don't think I will.” She whistles, and a different giant guy walks in with Sam shoved in front of him, his arms tied. “Because see, we caught your little surprise. I'm a demon, not an idiot.”

“That's debatable,” I mumble, and almost instantly she's standing in front of me. She smacks me hard across the face and my body goes one direction while the chair flies in the other. I hit the ground and immediately begin gasping for air.

“Wanna say that again?” I can't answer, the only sound I can make is a wet gargle from the blood flooding my mouth. I spit and even she gasps at the sight. “What's wrong with you? I barely touched you.” She looks at Dean, “What's wrong with her?” He narrows his eyes at her, and she tightens the grip around his throat. “It doesn't matter, because I've got her and Sammy boy to torture you with. God, I have been waitin’ for this. We all have been waitin’ for this.”

As if waiting on a signal, at least a dozen demons appear from various doorways and adjacent rooms, and both Sam and Dean’s eyes widen in alarm. A dozen is too many, even on a good day. I can feel their fear, and like some sort of key, it unlocks the memory I have been struggling to grab on to.

“Cas, what is this?” He walks over to where I'm sitting in the library, cataloging old books I found in the bunker’s dungeon. They were hidden away, locked in an old chest, but if I am anything like the boys I grew up with or the man I eventually came to know as my father, my curiosity and need to know overpowers any lock, rusty though it may be.

The book I am referring to is ancient, and though Cas is teaching me Enochian, it's far beyond what I know. Even he has to squint at it for a moment as he tries to decipher it.

“It appears to be a protection sigil.”

I tilt my head as I look at it, “I've never seen a protection symbol that looks like that. What's it for?”

Cas runs his hand over it, tracing the beautiful lines as he stares at it, “It is not like the protection sigils we use normally. This is far more violent towards the caster. It is essentially used in the most desperate of situations. If one were to carve this onto their person and activate it using their own blood, it would destroy any threat within a hundred yard radius.”

I raise a brow, “How does it know what to destroy and what to keep safe?”

“The love of the caster would protect them...at a cost.”

“What kind of cost?” Cas looks at me and I know before he responds what the answer is. “Their life, right?”

He nods, “Yes, unfortunately that is true.” He closes the book and places it back into the trunk. “I think that book goes in the restricted section.”

I laugh, “Was that a Harry Potter reference?”

He frowns, “I do not understand what you mean…”

The memory fades away, the only thing remaining the stark outline of the sigil, burned into my memory.

Oh, this is gonna suck.

I reach down to my boot, praying that they had forgotten to check everywhere, and that none of them notice me moving around. For a second, my hope is gone. Then my fingers brush the smooth, worn bone handle and I sigh in relief, slipping it from the hidden sheath.

The next few seconds feel like hours. All I can feel is a stinging pain, like my stomach is on fire as I cut into myself. It isn’t deep, but I struggle to keep going, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes as I force myself to continue. That’s the thing about dying; if you know it’s going to happen anyway, doing one last mostly unselfish act is worth it.

I focus on what I’m saving. Memories flood my mind as I try to distract myself; Dean doctoring my scrapes the time I was jumping from car to car in the junkyard and slipped off the hood of a rusted out Ford, helping Sam with his homework whenever Dean and John were gone and we were left to our own devices at Bobby’s, Dean dressing up and taking me out to a giant field full of lightning bugs when my prom date ditched me, and turning up the music in the Impala so we’d have something to dance to. That’s one of my favorite memories, because it’s also the night Dean and I first kissed. Hell, the first time I kissed anyone. It was a sweet, innocent moment, just Dean wanting me to have a nice night after some asshole tried to ruin it, but thinking back I think that’s the moment that I began to look at Dean differently. Late nights in libraries with Sam while we researched, the first time I ever saw the bunker….last night. Of course, I save the best memory for last.

As I make the last, painful swipe, I close my eyes and think of him, how warm he is, how he’s all rough edges and soft skin, green eyes that shift from a bright, almost emerald to a moss depending on the light and what he’s wearing. How he smells like gunpowder and whiskey and mint toothpaste. I connect the last line and release a shaky breath. Now for the hard part.

I shift onto my knees and spit again, the blood a bright, ruby red against the dirty floor. I take as deep a breath as I can manage and force myself to stand, stumbling slightly as I get to my feet. For a second, everything is doubled and I blink a couple of times to try to clear my vision. I look towards Dean and he’s shaking his head, his eyes on the knife in my hand. He doesn’t know what I’m going to do, he isn’t aware of the conversation I had with Cas, but I think he knows this can’t end well regardless of what I’m getting ready to do. I swipe my arm across my chin in an attempt to wipe away the blood now freely dripping from my mouth and Margaret turns around to look at me. Several of the demons step forward as if they’re going to stop me and she holds up a hand.

“Nah, I wanna see what she thinks she’s gonna do.” She smirks, but I see it falter when she sees that my shirt is also bloody. “What do you think you’re doin’?”

I grip the knife tighter and ignore her, moving my gaze over her shoulder to where Sam and Dean are. I lock eyes with Sam first, and he frowns, his eyes wide.

“Y/N…”

“It’s okay...everything’s going to be alright. I love you, big guy.”

“Love you too, short stuff,” he chokes out as a giant tear rolls down his cheek. I’m not sure which is worse, the tear, or the fact that he actually says I love you back to me.

I shift my gaze to Dean and smile, “Cas is gonna save us after all.”

His eyes widen as I lift my shirt up to reveal the sigil, “Y/N, what...what is that? What are you doing?”

I drag the knife along my palm, then let it fall from my hand. It hits the floor with a clatter, and Dean cringes, though he keeps his eyes locked with my mine. “It's okay...I'm not alone, Dean. I never was.”

“No!” I’ve never heard so much pain in a single syllable, and for a split second, I reconsider my plan. But I know better; it’s either I die and the Winchesters live, or we all die. I close my eyes and press my palm to the sigil. A white hot wave of energy courses through me and before everything goes totally white, I see the demons writhing in pain, light shooting from their eyes and mouths, a lot like when Cas smites someone.

It’s finally over.

Dean,

I'm sorry I just left, but it's the best way for this to end. You have seen so much, have had so much taken away...I can't make you watch this, too. Don't be angry at Cas for not answering; he's got his own battles, and honestly, I'm ready for mine to be over.

Finding my way back to you was the best thing that's happened to me in the past year. I was so scared and alone and angry, but then you came along and made it bearable. I wish I could have been more honest with you about being sick...but you guys made me forget. It was nice not to be sick and dying, at least for awhile.

I love you, Dean. I know it's hard for you to say it, but I know. You show me every day. You are patient and funny and kind...even when I don't deserve it. You have so much love in you, please don't let this take it away. The world deserves to know your heart, and you deserve to be happy.

Anyway, by the time you see this, I'll be gone. Remember what tonight was like, okay? That's how I want you to remember me. That's the kind of love I want you to fight for.

Love you, Deano.

Y/N

Like what you see? Would you like to see more? My Masterlist is here!

Forever Tags: @trexrambling @pinknerdpanda @wheresthekillswitch @emilywritesaboutdean @arryn-nyxx @emptywithout @escabell @charliebradbury1104 @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @deanssweetheart23 @canadianjelly @super-not-naturall @aubreyreadsstuff @dean-winchesters-baby @melissaj616 @fandomismyspiritanimal @keepcalmandcarryondean @assbutt-still-in-hell @owllover123 @rosie-winchester @amionthetumbler @duubaduu @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @goldenolaf25 @authoressskr @nanie5 @mrssamfuckingwinchester @zincomms @kathaswings @crazynerdandproud @barbedwireandbubblegum @sandlee44 @boxywrites @justanotherdeangirl @smalltowndivaj @captainradicalpassion @myloveforyouxx @atc74 @mrsbatesmotel53 @there-must-be-a-lock @masksandtruths @thelittleredwhocould @jotink78 @amanda-teaches @ilsawasanacrobat @squirrel-moose-winchester @mjdoc90 @anticipate1003 @mrswhozeewhatsis @mogaruke @speakinvain @linki-locks11 @wildlandfox @rhochradel @lostnliterature @fandom-queen-of-wonderland @spn-ficfanatic @polina-93

Dean Only: @akshi8278 @valkyrieslament @lavieenlex @highonpastries @wholelottajackles @imascio08

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SPN Angst Bingo Tags: @thekarliwinchester @emptywithout @winchesterxtwo @aubreystalinski @deansbabygirl01

#Breathe Part 7 #spn angst bingo #dean x reader #reader insert #angst #the grand finale

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flyswhumpcenter · 6 years

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Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card!

Here you go Nonnie, Riku + Allergic Reaction! I’ve picked platonic Ioriku because we need more of these buddies in the fandom. It was a very nice idea! I’ve just allowed myself to use my residence AU (again) because it just felt natural for such a story, but it’s not that important to the plot. There may be some medical inaccuracies because I’ve never had allergies nor asthma in my life, but I hope it’s fine otherwise!

Spring Panic

Summary: Spring has always had its perks and flaws for Riku, mostly because of his terrible case of allergies. It's in such a time and such circumstances that he had to get a helping hand from the ever-so-tactless Iori.

Fandom: IDOLiSH7 Relationships: Platonic Iori & Riku

Wordcount: 1.5K words

Event organized by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

Spring had arrived, bringing with it a lot of improvements over winter: plants coming back to life, warmer temperatures, damper air, more clement weather overall. However, it did bring with it the problem Riku was currently facing for yet another year of his life: the classic, yet deeply unwanted, hay fever season.

Pollen had always been one of his fatal weaknesses. It was everywhere around this moment of the year: all flowers were in bloom and, as such, they were spreading this powder in the air, which then made it into his airways. Never a fun time to go through.

People around the residence were always more careful about whatever entered the rooms, these days. However, nobody could truly prevent the pesky pollen from reaching him, so he just tried to spend as much time as possible in his room, reading books and trying to prevent his allergies from acting up like they’d usually do.

That was always the issue with spring and flowers blooming again. He really liked their colours and their scent, but they were always full of pollen preventing him from enjoying them like everyone else! He couldn’t hide the truth from his friends anymore too: they had known about his asthma for some time by now and hiding anything about it from some of them in particular would only backfire terribly.

A knock on his door made him think “oh, speaking of the devil”, but he still thought it could be someone else paying him a visit in his pillow fort.

“Yes?” he said, trying to sound as welcoming as possible with his slightly congested voice.

As nonchalant as ever, Iori entered the room and closed the door behind him, making sure to wear a mask on his face too. Was that mocking him or was that just not to catch allergies he couldn’t get anyway? Mean.

Iori leaned against the wall next to the door, arms crossed.

“Have you made sure to take your medicine, Nanase?”

He was at it again with speaking to him like that…

“Of course I did! Why do you say that as if I was five anyway?”

“I’m simply making sure you don’t have another surprise attack on us. One was far more than enough.”

What a brat…

“I take care of myself just fine! You don’t need to monitor me like a child, Iori!”

“I guess scaring us all was enough to make you change your mind then, right?” he scoffed back.

“I don’t think you should speak about health when you broke your arm last year…”

Iori’s embarrassed face was priceless and totally worth it, as always.

“Tou-ché!” he enthusiastically said to emphasize on his small victory over his friend’s usual calm and collected stance.

Iori cleared his throat as he took his “cool and sharp” attitude back, once again looking straight into the other boy’s eyes.

“I guess this means you’re ready to take your shift for the groceries, am I right?”

“Obviously, who do you think I am?! I feel so bad for having to make Sogo take my turn instead because I couldn’t…”

“For once, it’s not your fault. Don’t dwell too much over it.”

Urgh… That kid really knew where to hit to hurt, didn’t he?

“You’re implying I’m guikty of what, exactly…?”

“Nothing of importance right now. If we stick around here, the store will close and we’ll still have nothing in the fridges for everyone, so let’s hurry and stop bickering like that.”

“Let’s do these groceries then!”

One Riku had made sure to cover his face with a mask and taking with him his inhaler just in case an attack would happen (all under Iori’s judgemental stare, of course), the two made their way to the convenience store without much troubles: the road was calm, no car almost ran over them and there was no cats they’d want to desperately pet (no matter how many times Iori’d deny that, Tamaki always proved him wrong on that anyway, if his shirts weren’t giving him away already).

The pollen was obviously around, making it pretty hard to retain sneezes in. It’d be embarrassing and tedious to stop every thirty seconds to sneeze, so he decided the best course of action was to just try and not sneeze. Better try ignoring it, even if there was always that glare in his direction whenever he just tried to keep everything in.

The way back was where things got off the rails, as some people would put it. It wasn’t a very big round of shopping, lucky for them, otherwise they’d have had to ask Tsumugi or Yamato to drive them there and wait for them to put bags inside the car’s chest. It was more of a half-grocery stock-up thing anyway: they had just bought some food for half the week. Nothing too big to do!

That was where the pollen started to be his biggest enemy once more. It was difficult not to let the bags go whenever he wanted to let out the pressure building up inside his sinuses, shaking hands clutching onto the plastic yet feeling so weak and almost fragile.

Before he knew it, Riku had started hyperventilating, but he still wanted to get to the residence as soon as possible and hide inside his pillow fort again. It wasn’t going to end well for him or the stuff he was bringing back with him at this rate. He needed to find something…

Okay, so. The two bags he had in his hands were too heavy to hold in only one hand if he wanted to use his inhaler. If he stopped to do so, putting the bags on the floor and taking a breath in his inhaler, Iori would notice. What to do, what to do…

“Nanase.”

Iori’s voice broke him out of his train of thoughts, right as his mind started to turn into turmoil. He had put his bags onto the ground, which Riku did afterwards. They seemed to have stopped… so everything got out in a bang.

It started innocently enough, as always, with just the sneezes he had kept in. That was however the tip of the iceberg, as he soon remembered how it felt like to choke on his cough: as he was unable to breathe much when sneezing, it had delved down into almost stopping to breathe. It was a chain reaction of symptoms.

Eyes filled with tears and thoughts filled with the fear of dying today, he barely realized he was getting sat down against a small wall. Hands were browsing through his pockets, eventually finding his inhaler before helping him use it.

It was a literal breathe of relief: even if the situation was beyond confusing at that point, he could breathe again thanks to this very welcome clearly needed, help. Things didn’t need to make sense as long as he would be okay. It was all fine and it was all going to end well.

He closed his eyes, feeling both exhausted by almost asphyxiating and of the sudden soothing vibe taking a hold of him.

When Riku woke up, he was in his bed and room again, as if he had never gone out to buy the groceries in the first place. The atmosphere was damp and warm, probably so he wouldn’t irritate his breathing again. There was one person next to the bed and, well, he was kind of the obvious possibility.

“You’re awake again, huh,” Iori said as if he was just noticing so.

There were a few questions in the back of his mind, but his throat felt dry and he still felt tired from the entire and earlier ordeal.

“Needless to say, you’ve scared everyone yet again, Nanase,” Iori scolded him like a child again, as he always did, before sighing and resuming. “Why didn’t you tell me about it? I could have done something about it.”

“I thought I could last until we were home… Sorry…”

“Huh. To be fair, we weren’t this far from the residence. It would have still been much better for everyone involved to have told me about it. I’m not just here to be your morality pet.”

And yet, there was a small smirk on Iori’s face, as if he was amused.

“I guess that’s how you are. You never want to worry people. That’s cute,” he interrupted himself to clear his throat, but instead just looked away and lowered his voice, “… in a way.”

Riku laughed lightly at it.

“That was a compliment, right…?”

“If you wanted it to be. I guess.”

Iori was digging his grave of embarrassment, but that was quite the show to watch.

“At least it’s all well, now… I hope I haven’t made everyone worry too much…”

“You should spare your breathing right now,” he got interrupted, before the other boy took a cup on the nightstand and gave it to him. “Here, take this, instead. It’ll do you good.”

Riku didn’t need to even taste it to know what it was.

“Warm milk with honey… Thank you, Iori…!”

He got a dry and almost cold “you’re welcome”.

That kid did care, didn’t he?

#bad things happen bingo #i7 #nanase riku #izumi iori #brotp: fly away #allergies #hurt comfort #au: takanashi residence #bthb 1

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zebraslovescupcakestoo · 7 years

Text

Golden eyes Chapter 6

“Huh?” Mickey raised an eyebrow. “What doesn't add up?”

I tried to explain. “Well for starters, Who's side are YOU GUYS on? Neither of you ever told me that yesterday and from what Bendy said about you two, you're working with him!”

“Huh? But I DID tell you! We're the good guys! Were just on a different team!”

I'm not gonna fall for your naive trick! “Then how come neither wanted to team up with the others I can trust so far?”

He stared at me straight in the eyes. “Well, have YOU told them about us working together? You don't trust them enough?” He responded.

“Don't you dare change the subject.” I tried to get back at the topic.

“So that's a no, that's what you mean.” He replied.

“What? NO! That's not what I mean!” I defended myself. “I don't want them in the hands of that demon!”

“Newsflash, scat cat. Even if you did your best, there's always something that he can ruin them. Same thing goes for all of us and we are no exception.” He looked down as if he somewhat experienced it.

Did I just say something I shouldn't?

“Is that's what's bothering you? Our morals?” He questioned with a concerned look.

“Partially.” I tried to be honest. He sighted.

“Look, I know it might seems like it, but please, we're not 'with' him.”

“Then why are you aiding in his scheme? Did he black mailed you or your brother like he did to anybody?”

He scoffed and gripped his fist tighter. Bingo! That means... “He's got something. Didn't he?” But to my surprise, he shook his head. “More like he's got us trapped.” He answered.

“What do you mean? Did he-” He looked down.“I'm sorry, but if you really wanted to know, you need to ask Oz. I promised to him not to talk about it unless he's OK with it.”

Is it that serious? What did Bendy do? Judging by his expression, he's not lying. But then again...

He lifted his head again. “Let's get back to the drug topic. Apart from us, what was the other things you didn't get? From what you've deducted a minute ago, Bendy hired some people to steal some necklaces and strike a deal with them for acquiring some order he needed to get his drug business rebooted. We also found out he had a new partner for helping him grow some weeds, due to it's special care and requirements. What's the problem?”

As much as I didn't wanted to, I have to let it go and compromise for now.

“Fine. There's also a couple of thing in the case that didn't fit. For starters, Don't you think Bendy have enough cash to just re-operate? He doesn't get ANY profit from those necklaces and he could have had someone in his network to rebuild his machinery and lab equipment. Why go through all that trouble?”

He held his hand to his chin. “That's true. If he's got enough to rebuild his cartoon studio from the previous owners, this shouldn't be a problem unless... He needed a certain type of machinery this time around.”

I was a bit confused so he explained. “Think about it. If he wanted to have just the same lab like the last place that got busted, he wouldn't need to. I've actually read that case. The details mentioned that what gave them away was during that clean sweep, you're the one who claimed you've noticed some odd scent and while you were drawing closer to the lab, you've heard some water sprinkling, heaters, and a generator running. That was the big bust on this operation.”

“Alright, but still, why ordering a special one? Even with a new place, it will eventually be discovered by me.” I know I can do it again.

“But what IF that's gonna be a bit more challenging?” He replied. “Bendy learns from these mistakes and this time, with the help of the black market businesses, he found some that covered this past flaws. I found out that the newest equipment are MUCH more quiet and they developed a new technique that can block out the scents. I also found out there's gonna be more than weeds that will be on the streets.”

“Come again?” What does he mean and how did he knew so much?

“I heard in my line of work, of course, it's just a rumor but here's a new type of drugs that might take over the streets like a storm. It's much more efficient than marijuana and it's in a much smaller size. Idealistic for the merchants cause, why carry an elephant when you can fit a mouse in your pocket?” He winked.

I was confused. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Oh, come on! Ever heard of cocaine?” He replied.

“Cocaine? You mean the white powder stuff the rich people used? And the same stuff in World War 2 with the Germans?” I may not be a rocket scientist, but at least I know some medical usage for these things.

He nodded to my answer. “That and maybe more. I also heard that his new drug is called methamphetamine, or meth for short. Our test lab detected it's highly addictive and dangerous than just your regular cocaine. If that hit these streets, the number of overdosing victims will increase and it will be fatal for some.”

I nearly dropped my water bottle when he told me that. A new drug that is more deadly than marijuana? That's...

“That's insane! He's gonna turn this city into chaos!” I panicked. He halted me before I got up.

“Calm down! He still haven't made them yet. Besides, we still need to find more clues to his new drug location so we can bust this operation. Not to mention we also need to arrest Mr. Vermelho, he's the one's in charge of producing the Weeds AND the thief who stole that Snake's Emerald back in South America.”

He's right. If I only bust their hideout, they'll build another one. I have to catch them. Speaking of missing...

“While we're talking of missing necklaces, there also two other pieces that don't line up. First, there was that suspect with his monkey companion that were involved in the Lavender Pearls. You wouldn't have any new information on them?”

He shook his head. “I'm as clueless as you are. It's like they've disappeared. If they REALLY tried to escape, one of ours would’ve spotted him with is monkey.”

“Agreed. Nobody can missed an orange monkey. Speaking of pets, my second issue was the Countess Violette's Beagle, Lilly.”

“The dog-napping case?” He asked.

“That!” I pointed. “What's been sticking out. It doesn't make sense cause it has NO connection to the drugs. Unless it's a different issue like eliminating competition, I don't see how someone wanted to kidnap that poor pooch in this mess. Even for a cat person myself, I don't like where this is going, not one bit.” That case was out of the loop. Why the dog? Did she have something that might have a link in this? There was a minute of silence until Mickey broke it.

“Gosh! Maybe we need more info before we can start to fit some pieces together. I think we spend enough time here for a 'small talk.'” He's right. I'm supposed to be back by now. I then remembered something.

“Before you go, there one more thing I wanted to know.” I stood up and placed the bottle behind me. He did the same while he puts back the chair.

“When you mentioned yesterday, about my eyes, how did you know?”

I never told anybody but my father about this 'gift.' If you're confused, let's say it's like a special technique that makes me see things in a different way and things people can't 'normally' see... but it's also something I can't control on my own free will... and that... scares me.

“I know it from a friend who's very close to your deceased father. That person told us about that special vision and what it can do. Like for one thing, it can detect real treasures from fakes and copies, right?”

“R-right. But... Who's that person that's a friend of my father? He only knew a few, and they all disappeared one after another... All because of the Alfonso Mafia took them out.” I looked down and grinned my teeth. “They took them out, cause they were probably the very few people that are against them, no matter what dirt they tried to throw.”

He was surprised when I mentioned this. Then he stares at me with his head tilted. “Do you think...” I shook my head. “No. I don't think anyone else could have known. But back to what I was saying, Who told you?”

He crossed his arms. “Well, let's just say, that person who told us, is in a witness protection plan. You know how that works, right?”

“Huh? Can't you say his or her name at least?” Why do they know me when I don't know who they are?

“I promised them not to mention his or her name, but...” He looked behind him, leaned to my ear and whispered. “The reason why is because he or she is on top of Bendy's execution list, because 'they' can bring down his empire if they played their card right. We can't take any risk.” He then steps back. I was a bit at loss but I still somewhat understand what he said.

“You mean, I can't meet that person who knew me and my 'sight' for now.”

“Please understand me, I know it seems unfair for you and letting that trust and confidence in us slipping out. But I promised, we will tell you everything you need to know when the time comes. Can you trust me until then?” He gave a kind, pleading looks and extended his hand for a shake.

I can tell he's telling the truth. He may be a professional actor and I didn't detect anything off. Even my 'sight' was telling me he was honest.

“You swore on the 'good' book you'll tell me everything?” I reached out and paused for a second. “I won't shake. Unless you mean it!” I said to him.

“I'd bet both my entire career reputations on this. I promised.” He then puts his other hand on his heart. Then we made a pact.

Suddenly, the door quickly opened and it surprised us. It was Oswald who entered and quickly closed the door.

“Hey Mick! We have a slight problem.” He breathlessly said.

“What's going on?” I panicked. Is there something going on in there? Are they safe?

“Our violin player got injured by some thugs I took care earlier this evening. He alright but he won't be able to play the next part and Lumière's stalling the stage for now. We need someone to replace him before Alice can take the closing act.” Oswald explained.

Mickey then though a bit. “Gosh! We have to find someone who can at least play a musical piece. Unfortunately, I can't go on stage cause I didn't bring my harmonica.” Then he realized something and turned to me. “Felix! You said you played the violin?”

I froze on the spot when he asked that. “Wh-what? Wait! Hold up! I-I can't go on stage! I know I did say I played the violin, but I've hardly practiced on it for days! Not to mention, I don't know any songs he might play!”

“Don't worry! We have the note sheets he handed to us if he couldn't make it. Plenty of people uses these if they have to follow the specific notes, so no sweat!” He cheerfully said, but I'm still not convinced until Oswald said something unexpected.“He's right, he can't. Cat's got ridiculous standards as usual.”

He's got me off guard. “EXCUSE me?!”

He smirked at my reaction. “Just think about it, cats likes freebies and they don't like work. They just cat nap all day and makes their 'servants' do all the work. They have double standards when it comes to attention like, they annoyed their care givers just by acting cute and cuddly, but when they have enough, they leave them cold. I doubt he-”

Oh THAT IS IT! I HAD IT WITH YOU, WISEGUY!

I marched straight at him and Mickey quickly moved aside. “LISTEN, bunny brawler! First off, I do NOT have high standards. Second, I'm an honest police detective and I earned that position with hard work. I have morals and laws I follow AND I don't treat people like a scratch post! I can be as capable as I can pretty well play the violin just as any regular musician can, with or without much practice.” I snapped at him.

He grabbed my jaws in a quick move and make me look straight at him. “Excellent. But I'll be much more convinced if you actually did that rather than boast about it.” He then used his other hand to grab my tie. What the..?!

“I'd really be convinced, if you'd changed your vest to a different one, just for that performance.” He then pulled it off of me and drop it on the ground. I started to blush a bit. “It's an old entertainment trick if you wanted to have some 'privacy' from the public. Need I remind you who's at the V.I.P. booth, with a clear view of the stage?” He then reached for my collar and I blushed a bit more. What the heck is he doing?! “I think you needed a mask for hiding that face of yours too.” I started to shake when he undid the first button. “Do you need a hand with that?” Once he undid my second button, I started to sweat a bit and my heartbeat increased.

“Um, guys! The changing room is right there and I'm still here.” Mickey statement broke out the conversation between us. Crap! I forgot he was there!

“Oh sorry, What me to undress ya there, Hēi māo?” He then bluntly said to me.

“NYAGH!?!” I choked out and now my face is bright red. He let me go and I took that opportunity to bolt it. “WHATNOIDONTWANNAICANDOITMYSELFNONEEDTOHELPME!” I panicked, blabbed and ran to the hidden curtain Mickey was pointing. I hope he didn't see my embarrassed face.

Once I closed back the curtains. I took slow, quiet breaths to calm myself. I felt like I was heating up. I buried my face in my hands and trembled a bit. What the heck was THAT?! Why did I feel like he's hitting on me when it clearly he WASN'T!?!

I then heard them talking.

“Was that really necessary? He had a nauseous moment not ten minutes ago.” Mickey whispered.

“What? It wasn't the first time I had to help somebody change.” Oswald bluntly said. Excuse me?!

“That's... not what I meant. We still need his help. We can investigate the manor where Mr.-” He got cut off.

“SHH! Hey māo! You need my help finding what's next to ya?” Oswald said to me and I panicked a bit.

“ER-! NO! NO! I-I can do it!” Carp fish! I have to change quickly before 'he' loses his patience! I grabbed one of the spare vests on the rack and I noticed the fine, detailed, embroidery designs in different shades of blues. I was captivated of it's well done, hand made piece of art work. It had an imagery of two small rabbits and there was some Chinese symbols in a straight position. I really don't know what it says, but I really don't wanted to get picky now.

I stepped out after I changed and said. “Is it alright if I use this?”

They both looked at me. Oswald choked and blushed a bit while Mickey smiled and sparkled his eyes a bit. “Hey Ozzy! He' wearing that vest you've -SQUEAK!” He grabbed his cheeks below his jaws before he continued. “Your very life will depend on what words you will use next. Choose wisely.” He glared at him.

“That-vest-you've-purchased-in-China-last-month.” He struggled to say. He then lets go of his jaw and leaves. “I'll be at the back stage. Don't make me wait.” He then exited.

“Did I picked the wrong one?” I asked him. “Er-No. It's...” He then whispered. “I can't tell ya, pal. He had super-hearing abilities.” From the frighten looks on his concerned face, I decided to save it for another time.

---

Me and my big fat mouth... I was nervous down to my bones. I may be behind the main stage, but I feel like I'm gonna faint on the spot if I make a mistake, let alone if I can make a sound. I can handle a small crowd, but this is like a full house of aristocrats and important peoples. But I don't want to back out after what happened back in the secret room... not even letting that screwy rabbit win that argument. Why can't I just let it go when they don't understand-

“Hēi māo?” I jumped a bit and nearly let out a mewl when he said that after he put a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see it who it was. “Oswald?! Don't sneak up on me like that!” I whispered harshly. I blushed a bit when he was a bit close.

“Keep your head straight for a minute, Xià huàile de māo. I need to put a mask on ya.” He whispered with a plastered face. “Huh?” He tsked and puts my face forward. “Hold still.” He then covered it over my face. “It's just for not making Bendy do an assassination attempt if he sees you or in case if you screw up and your face won't be in the front page on Monday's paper. Safety image, ya know?” He then ties it to secured it. I can still see clearly through it, then I noticed a mirror leaning against a wall. I looked at the reflection and I saw what kind of mask it was. It's an Egyptian style cat mask. It was covered in black with golden details and it had blue beads on the sides.

“That mask was a gift from one of my business acquaintance in Egypt. He told me he created it's design from of a certain domestic cat goddess in ancient times. Make sure you don't wreck it.” He explained it's origins.

“Er-Thanks. I will. I'll try my best. But, can you tell me something?” I asked.

“Make it quick.” He replied.

“You and Mickey said that I was to play an important role to this case. Yet, I still don't know what it is. Your brother told me that both of you needed my 'sight' which I never told anyone. Can you maybe at least tell me who it was it who told ya?”

He shook his head. “I can't. I was in the same boat as my baby brother. However...” He grabbed my collar so I can stayed faced to him. My heart started to beat faster. “ What I CAN say is that there was 'another' person before 'that' one who had those eyes, once upon a time. 'She' told us about hers and we knew what it does. Unfortunately, she died before she can have the chance to see you again.”

Huh? There was someone... shares my secret ability... and she wanted to see me, again? “What are you talking about? I don't know-”

I got interrupted by Mickey's announcement. “Times up. Here's the case. The sheets are in it.” He handed me the violin case. “If you wanted to know more about her...” He then pointed at my eyes. “Try to use your 'sight' more often. You're supposed to know how to do it by now. Then come back to see me.” He then left. I wanted to ask more but I don't have the moment right now.

I entered the stage as the crowd gave a round of applause. I went to the center and I took out the violin and the music sheets. That when I noticed the title. I remembered that song... by heart.

I readied myself and nodded at the composer, telling I'm ready.

They started to play and I followed...

Oh Baía, when twilight is deep in the sky, Baiá Someone that I long to see, keeps haunting my memory And so the loneliness deep in my heart calls to you, calls to you!

I remembered when first heard this song at a movie theater with my father's partner, Bernard 'Bugs' Bonney. He was like an uncle to me when my father was stuck at work. It was that time was one of the police officer there got sick and the case he was working wasn't to put on hold. I was a bit sad he couldn't make it but Bernard was there to take care of me when I was down.

I live in the memory of many dreams ago When the stars were bright and you were mine alone My love for you cannot die, though the oceans run dry Or heaven’s call from the sky, now you’re gone!

My father loved music. He told me once that I can become a great violinist if I practice hard enough when I found out I played it very well. So I did and on that one night in a talent show, I played that song without flaw. It was one of the best nights I had and what makes it more memorable, My dad was there with his partner Bugs! I was told he was gonna miss it but I guess they wanted me to be surprised.

Baía, can’t you hear my lonely call? Morena, make my life complete again! How I pray for the day when I’ll see your smile And my heart will beat again!

I can remember after that show, we went to my favourite seafood restaurant to celebrate and he was saying how proud he was of me. But I also remembered when Bernard went to the washroom, I asked him if he could tell me about my mother I never knew about. The only thing I got from him is that I have her looks and she left without a trace when I was a few days old. He then told me even without my mom or even if I reminded of her, he'd loved me no matter what, even if it was hard sometimes.

Oh Baía, when twilight is deep in the sky, Baía Someone that I long to see, keeps haunting my memory And so the loneliness deep in my heart calls to you, calls to you!

And it was also the last time... I had a bonding moment with him....

Oh Baía...

We ended the song and there was a round of applause, shouts and whistling. Whoa! Was it that good? I haven't even noticed the notes... I bowed at the audience before I exited and met up with Mickey. “For someone who claimed he didn't have much practice, you DID impress everyone! What a performance!” He praised me.

I blushed a bit at his comment. “T-thanks! I didn't expect-” “My Kitty boy!” I got interrupted by my girl, Kitiana. What the-? How did they get here?

“Why didn't you tell me you'll be preforming tonight? This was your best musical piece I've heard in a while!” She joyfully exclaimed.

“That was so cool! Even what you're wearing right now!” Inky hugged me at the left. “Can you teach me how to play sometime?” Winky followed up at my right.

“I er... I did it as a returned favor... for the tickets...” I tried to come up an excuse.

“But wasn't it a gift from that family store in Chinatown?” She replied. Carp fish!

“Oh, actually! It was I who asked him a favor. Our leading violinist couldn't make it, so I asked him.” Mickey saved me.

“Aw! You're so kind.” She then untied my mask and placed a kiss on my cheeks. My nephews got disgusted and my face got redder.

“The changing room is at the right. Your previous vest is there. I hope you enjoy the last song.” He then left and we enjoyed the rest of the night.

----

It was around eleven when we arrived with the taxi cab. Me and Kitty carried my sleeping nephews out of the cars due to the long ride home. I gave the driver the right amount and a tip before we headed back at our house.

“Felix.” Kitty asked. “Back at the restaurant, what did the patrons really wanted to ask you?”

“H-huh? Why do you ask? It was just a favor for that guy who couldn't make it.” I simply said.

“I CAN tell if you're still hiding something. That took a pretty long time to ask just a little favor.” Uh-oh!

“Wasn't it Mickey who's the second head of the Disney INC.? Isn't he in charge of the jewelry and the dog show they sponsored? Did he ask you about the related cases you've been working on?” She interrogated.

Aw, snap! She's not gonna let this one go if I don't answer the right one! “Wellllll... He DID sort of asked about those, but I did explained what I can and cannot. We know how these things works, right?” I tried to be as truthful as I can without making it sound suspicious. She then looked at me straight in the eyes with 'that' kind of look and I started to sweat a bit.

“... You're still keeping something in this case from me.” AAAAnd she guessed it! What am I supposed to say?

Hey! Did you know I was working with the Disney brothers since yesterday? They're also working like secret agents for these cases and they found out about my special 'sight' technique I never mentioned to anybody but my father! Not even you! How AM I supposed to explain other wise???

I struggled a bit for words until a saving grace happens... Well, NOT really... It was actually an unfortunate break.

Woody came out and ran to us. He whispered harshly. “Felix! Thank god you're back! The chief called half an hour ago! You're needed at the Mr. Blank's estate, as soon as possible!”

I was a bit surprised. “You mean Mr. Blancheur? That white business man who's the CEO of W.H.I.T.E. company?”

Woody nodded. “Yeah, that old white cotton swab! He's been murdered!”

TO BE CONTINUED....... Chapter 7

Read chapter 5 here

Read the beginning here : Chapter 1

Whoo whee! Here’s chapter 6!

Now before I’m gonna get grilled on the history of cocaine, it was introduced as a ‘drug’ in the 70′s, BUT I did a little research and they actually were used in the medicine in those days. Since it was an alternate universe like BBTIM, I guess I can bend a few rules.

The song that Felix played on the violin was from that Disney movie, The Three Caballeros. it’s called Baia who was originally sung by Ray Gilbert and composed by Charles Wolcot. Here’s a link to it’s audio on Youtube here.

So now we’re adding on a murder case! Is it related to this webbed mystery? Or is it a separate case?

Keep in check for next week, cause our mysterious ‘French’ police officer will be back!

The BBTIM characters belong to Marini4.

#bendy before the ink machine #Felix #Felix The Cat #Mickey Mouse #oswald the lucky rabbit #oswald #fanfiction

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hannahindie · 7 years

Text

Breathe - Part 3

Pairing: Dean x Reader Series Warnings: Fatal illness, character death, blood, canon violence, language, eventual smut, kidnapping. Word Count: 3,109 Square Filled: Fatal Illness Summary: A year ago, the reader makes a decision regarding her treatment. Present day, she finds herself in over her head, and Sam and Dean are about to find out just what she’s been hiding. A/N: This is the third part of my SPN Angst Bingo Card, hosted by @spnangstbingo. It will be seven parts, and the schedule has already been posted. It will post twice a week (Monday and Friday) until it wraps up.

Beta’d by my beautiful waterbear writing soulmate, @trexrambling: “I love it when Sam gets sassy.” So do I...sassy Sam makes my life.

My twinny, @pinknerdpanda: “I read this in your voice and it made me so happy.” I like to indulge myself and put myself in things, so it always makes me happy when you find it. :)

And my beautiful, sweet angel, @masksandtruths: “Yea, it’ll be fine.” Snerk. Sure.

As always, tags are at the bottom. If you’d like to be added, please let me know!

One Year Earlier…

“No.”

My mouth is forming the words before I even realize my brain has thought them.

“I’m sorry?” The doctor looks at me, her brows raised in surprise. I would laugh at how absurd she looks if the situation at hand wasn’t so serious.

“No...I don’t think I want any of those options.” My heart is racing; I’m basically telling this woman I want to die. But that’s not entirely true, is it? I don’t want to die, but now that I’m presented with options, if I’m going to go, I want to go with some dignity.

“Y/N, there’s a chance-”

My laugh interrupts her and she frowns, her lips pressed thin as she stares at me. “I-I am so sorry,” I clear my throat as I try to calm down the hysterical laughter bubbling just below the surface, “but I just find that ridiculous. You already told me that the five year survival rate is eight percent.” I sigh, “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I am very tired. I am a deep, soul crushing tired, and honestly I just want...I want to go out the way I want to go. Do you understand? My job is hard and, honestly, I’m lucky I’ve made it as long as I have.”

Her mouth forms a little ‘o’ of surprise, and I realize that’s the closest I’ve ever come to telling someone outside the life the truth about what I do.

“But at the end of the day, I love it. It’s everything I’ve ever known, and I get to help people, and that’s what this world is about, right? So if this is going to happen, if I’m going to die, I want to be able to do so knowing I have done everything I can before I’m gone.”

“I have to strongly advise against that.”

“I know,” I smile as I stand up from the cozy chair that I’m sure is there to be a small comfort when people are receiving bad news, “but it’s what I want. I understand the repercussions.”

She nods, then pulls a sheet from the pad in front of her and holds it out to me. I reach for it, and she holds it back slightly and raises an eyebrow, “I will give you this if you promise that you will at least get checked once a month. I understand that you aren’t going to accept treatment, but I expect you to be in this office once a month for the foreseeable future. In return, I will make sure you are kept comfortable, in a responsible manner. Do we have an agreement?”

“Yea, doc, we’ve got a deal.”

She nods once, then lets the paper slip into my hand. I give her one more smile, then leave the office and head to the closest pharmacy.

The bell above the door dings as I push my way into the building. Pharmacies always have this weird vibe to them; the overhead lights cast a yellowish glow on everything, and most likely one of them is buzzing, flickering slightly as it tries to decide if it’s time to quit. The music playing quietly in the background at this particular one is some cheesy Muzak that would make any hotel elevator jealous. I hand the pharmacist my script then sit in one of the uncomfortable chairs lined up in front of the window. He looks at me, looks at the wrinkled piece of paper, then back at me. I smile, and he gives me a sad look in return. I know what that looks means. Dead girl walking.

“Not too reassuring when your pharmacist looks at you like that, is it?” I look over to see an older man, at least in his eighties, sitting several seats down, one leg crossed over the opposite knee and a cane balanced against his arm rest.

“No, not really.”

“What are you in for?”

I'm usually not much for small talk, but the glint in this man’s eye has me intrigued.

“Lung cancer. You?”

“You name it, I got it, though I do believe you got me beat on that one, sweetheart. Today it's my sugar, but I’m sure tomorrow will find something else. Then again, I like to believe that I didn't fight the Nazis and survive for something like that to take me out.”

“I like the way you think, sir.”

“Sir’s my daddy, you can call me Frank, Frankie if you're feeling cheeky.”

I wink, “I'm always feeling cheeky, Frankie.”

He grins, “Oh, to have met you in my heyday. We woulda had a ball.”

I cock an eyebrow, “Who says we can't now? As long as you don't mind my broken lungs, I think we could have some fun adventures.”

He holds up his hand and wiggles his ring finger, “I don't think my wife would approve. She's cheeky, too.”

We fall silent and I wonder what his wife is like.

“I'm sorry about your lungs, sweetheart.”

I shrug, “In my line of work, it's just a matter of time. It's a little...less violent than I assumed it would be, so that's nice.”

Frankie frowns, and again I realize I've let something slip. “What kinda job do you do?”

“I hunt monsters.”

“I understand that. Someone's gotta do it, huh?”

I know we are talking about two different kinds of monsters, but the sentiment is still there.

“Mr. Duvall?”

He stands slowly, then leans on his cane for a moment to balance himself. “That's me,” he says as he gives me one last look. “You take care of yourself.”

“You too.” He shuffles to the counter and gets his medicine, then disappears around the corner. The pharmacy falls silent again, except for the occasional pop of that one, slowly dying light.

Now…

Simple hunt my dying ass.

Sam should have been right. All his research pointed to the ghost of the husband being the culprit, stuck in a loop in an attempt to save his children.

God, I wish that was true.

Instead, it’s the entire family, including the murderous bitch that killed the rest of them. She is not having our interruption, and I suddenly find myself trapped in an upstairs room, my only defense the iron poker I had grabbed as I ran past the fireplace and up the stairs.

I look around for another way out, but there's no use. This room opens into a nursery, but there's no doors in that room and all of the windows are nailed shut. I'm gasping for air; the run from one side of the house to the other then up the stairs was too much. I cough into my hand and can tell before I even look that there's more blood.

Dammit.

I hear a thud from downstairs and a muffled sonuvabitch, then the loud bang of a shotgun going off.

“Come on, this is ridiculous!” I wiggle the doorknob, knowing it's pointless. On a good day, I might be able to kick it open, but as it is, I'm having trouble standing. Kicking doesn't really seem like an option right now. Suddenly, the air is frigid, and I can see pathetic little breath clouds trying to form in front of me. I turn slowly to see the wife slowly appear, flickering in and out of existence like some kind of video cassette from the eighties.

“You are a raging bitch, you know that? Sam is going to find your bones and he's going to burn your ass. You won't be hurting anyone else.”

It's then I realize that there's one way to get that door open. It's not a good plan, but I have to try something. “Come on, get me! I'm not moving!” I hold my arms out and drop my poker. “Look! All yours! C’mon, bitch!” Suddenly, she throws her arm out towards me and I'm airborne. I close my eyes and brace for the impact, but nothing could have prepared me for how much it was going to hurt. I hit the door and it yields with a sickening crack. For a second, I'm honestly not sure if it is the door or my spine that's making the sound, but there's not much time to think about it as I finish my descent and slam into the floor. It feels like my entire body is curled around something the wrong way, and I lay there and try to force the air in and out.

It feels like I'm drowning on land, like the air I'm trying to desperately suck in is going to be the very thing that kills me. “Dean…” I can barely speak, but I manage to roll over to my hands and knees. “Holy shit….bad...idea…” Good news, the cracking sound is the door, not my spine. The bad news, there's blood dripping from my mouth and I know I didn't get hit in the face. I spit and grimace at the amount of red on the floor. Not good.

“Dean!” A little louder this time, and I hear footsteps taking the stairs two at a time. I manage to get to my feet in time to see Mama Murder appear, less flicker and more violent than before. Great.

“Duck!”

I turn to see Dean pointing a shotgun at me and drop to my knees with a groan; it's a shame, considering I'd just managed to stand up. While he's preoccupied, I swipe my palm swiftly across my mouth and wipe away the evidence. No need for him to see that. The blast makes my ears ring, but the ghost is gone for the moment, so I slump against the wall and let my chin hit my chest.

“Thanks,” I force out, biting back the scream of pain that I want to let loose. I can feel the bruise forming on my back and it feels like my lungs are on fire. Breathing is like swallowing glass shards, and I’m worried that I may have broken a rib, which just adds insult to injury, honestly.

“What the hell happened?” he asks as he kneels next to me, taking a moment to look at the now destroyed door.

I give him a weak shrug and look up at him, my attempt at the usual smartass smirk failing as blood drips from my lip. “Well, I had to get the door open somehow.”

“Are you okay?”

His eyes are on my mouth, and now would be the time to tell him that I am not, in fact, okay, but instead I spit, then wipe my hand across my lips again, “I'm fine. She got me pretty good, I must have bitten my lip when I hit the door. No big. Help a girl up, would ya?”

He stands, offering his hand, and I grab it. It’s warm in mine, rough and gentle at the same time, and for a second my mind flashes back to another time with those hands...which is not helpful now. I gather myself as well as I can and stand with a groan. “I am getting too old for this shit.”

“You and me both.” He stares at me, his eyes traveling from my face down to my toes and back up, narrowing as he realizes how carefully I'm holding myself. “Seriously, are you okay?”

I straighten up, ignoring the way my entire body is protesting the movement, and let go of Dean’s hand. “I’m fine. Let’s just gank this bitch and get out of here. Where’s Sam?”

“I don’t know. I heard him yell something about burning bones, I guess he figured out where she is. I haven’t seen him.”

“Well, let’s go downstairs, there’s nothing up here-”

I’m cut off by what feels like a hand around my throat and then suddenly I’m airborne again. Only this time, there’s no door to slow my fall, or a wall to crash into. I hit the floor, and before I can scramble to catch myself gravity betrays me and I literally bounce down the stairs. I always thought it looked ridiculous when people on television fell down the stairs, and I have a few seconds to contemplate how stupid I must look until the wall at the bottom abruptly stops me. For the second time in five minutes, the air is knocked out of me. This time, my vision starts to go black around the edges and spots start dancing in front of me. I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on getting my lungs to cooperate. In. Out. In. Out. Dean shouts and suddenly his shotgun slides down the stairs and lands at my feet. I look up to see him held against the wall, and I gauge the distance between us.

It’s too far.

The shotgun’s range with normal ammunition wouldn’t be enough, but this is rock salt. I’ll have to get closer, and it suddenly occurs to me that if I don’t move the lie I have been telling could get Dean killed. I grab the gun and crawl to the steps and begin dragging myself up, the shotgun in one hand while the other hand grips the worn wood. He’s looking at me, his eyes rolling as he tries to catch his breath, and I pump the shotgun one-handed, another television trope I wasn’t sure actually ever happened. I manage to climb half of the stairs and stand up shakily, leaning back against the banister as I aim the shotgun.

“Let him go, you bitch,” I snarl, then shoot. She disappears with a high pitched screech, and I collapse on the steps and let the gun fall from my hand. When I look up, Dean’s on his knees, his chest heaving as he stares at me. “When I said to go downstairs, that’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

Dean shakes his head and laughs, “I was gonna say, that was a dramatic exit.”

“Well, I have to keep it interesting.” A crash comes from above us, and we both look up.

“Did you know that this place has an attic?”

I shake my head, “No, but I guess I do now.”

Sam shouts, and before Dean can run to the source of the sound, we hear a muffled found you and then feet hurrying across the floor above.

Sam pops out of one of the rooms, “We need to go.”

“Why? What did you do?” Dean asks as he gives me his hand again and I stand up gingerly. At least this time Dean isn’t going question it; I did just get thrown down the stairs.

“The better question is where the hell did you even come from?” I grimace as we start down the stairs and Dean’s brows furrow as he tightens his grip around my waist.

Sam grabs the shotgun and takes off for the front door, “Let’s talk about this outside. Actually, better yet, let’s talk about it in the car, as we’re leaving.”

We stumble outside and I turn back just in time to see the second story burst into flames. “Someone’s got some explainin’ to do.” I look back at Sam and he shrugs, and the puppy dog look on his face is nearly too much to deal with. “Was that absolutely necessary?”

Sam tosses Dean his keys, “Well, from the sounds of how hard she was kicking your asses, yes, it was necessary.”

Dean rolls his eyes and lets his arm slip from where it was resting around my waist. I’m sad, both because it was comfortable and because I can feel my body start to give up as my adrenaline begins to wear off.

“She wasn’t kicking our asses, we had it handled.”

“Right,” Sam scoffs, “if you consider Y/N getting thrown down the stairs and you getting choked out ‘having it handled’.” He air quotes that list bit, throwing a bitch face to beat all bitch faces at Dean.

“How would you even know? You didn’t see what was going on. And how did you even get up there anyway?”

“Guys…” Everything is getting blurry, and I can’t catch my breath. I reach out for Dean but my fingertips barely brush his arm; my depth perception is pretty much gone.

“Well, if you’d even tried to look around, you would have seen there was a back staircase, and a hidden entrance in one of the closets.” Sam crosses his arms and, even with blurry vision, I can tell that he’s gloating. They're picking a fine time to act like normal brothers.

“Dean.” It’s all I can get out before wracking coughs take over. I can't breathe, I can't see, I can't speak. I can taste it, the bitter metallic taste of my body working against me, tearing me apart from the inside out. I'm choking on blood, and the thought of dying throws me into a panic. I'm not ready; I just found the thing worth fighting for, even if I'm in denial about it. I have family again, a life, and I regret the decision I made to give it all up.

“Y/N!”

I fall to my knees, and I feel someone next to me, a familiar warmth, and I fold myself into it. Dean's looking down at me, his eyes full of fear, and it's the only thing I can focus on.

“C’mon, hang in there. Sammy, help me get her in the car.”

“Shouldn't we call an ambulance-”

My gasp for air and another coughing fit interrupts him, and he looks at me in horror when he sees how much blood is on my face. I may not be able to see well, but I can tell. This is bad.

“We don't have time to wait. Come on.” Dean lifts me up and Sam rushes to open the back door. He carefully slides me onto the bench seat, and before he can move I find a little strength to grab his arm.

“Please...don't…” It's all I can say. It's Dean, though, and he understands. He's understood me since we were ten years old.

“Okay, I'm here, I gotcha.” He crawls in next to me and holds me across his lap, my head against his shoulder. Each gargling breath I take has him holding me tighter, and my heart aches. I shouldn't have done this to him. He holds the keys out to Sam, “Drive, fast.”

The last thing I feel as my eyes slip shut is Dean’s lips as he brushes them against my cheek. “Everything will be fine,” he whispers.

Everything will be fine.

Read Part 4 HERE.

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#spn angst bingo #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean x reader #reader insert #angst

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hannahindie · 7 years

Text

Breathe - Part 4

Pairing: Dean x Reader Series Warnings: Fatal illness, character death, blood, canon violence, language, eventual smut, kidnapping. Word Count: 3,200 Square Filled: Fatal Illness Summary: Six months ago, Y/N runs into someone unexpected at the local bar while researching a case. For one night, she decides to forget and just try to be normal. Present day, Dean wants answers and Y/N isn’t sure how to explain herself. A/N: This is the fourth part of my SPN Angst Bingo Card series, hosted by @spnangstbingo. It will be seven parts, and the schedule has already been posted. It will post twice a week (Monday and Friday) until it wraps up.

It was beta’d by the ever fantastic and my writing soulmate @trexrambling: “ Don't we all. -happy sigh-”

My beautiful twinny, @pinknerdpanda: “oof...this would give me feelings to hear from the lips of Dean Winchester”

And my dear, sweet angel baby @masksandtruths: “Ughhhh. Yep I want to go cry in a corner now.”

Thanks to all three for helping a girl out so that her words make sense. I owe a lot to all of you.

As always, tags are at the bottom. If you’d like to be added, please let me know.

6 months earlier…

This bar is perfect. It's in the middle of nowhere, it's cheap, and so far not one person has tried to get my number or buy me a drink.

“Hey, sweetheart, can I buy you a drink?”

Never mind.

I take a deep breath then spin around to face the jackass that's ruining my perfect bar experience, “What makes you think-”

“Y/N?”

I should have recognized his voice, but I definitely recognize the green eyes sparkling in the dim light, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he realizes who he just tried to hit on.

“Dean?”

“Holy shit, what are you doing here?” He looks like he’s trying to decide if he should do something, like give me a hug or a hearty pat on the arm, but ends up just jamming his hands into his pockets. I give him an awkward smile.

“Working a case, what about you?” I turn back to the bar and he slides onto the stool next to me.

“We just finished one, heard there might be something over this way so we figured we'd check it out before we went home.” He waves down the bartender and orders two more beers.

“I'm not even sure it is a case. Haven't been able to find much, I'm starting to think it's a thing for the locals to handle. I figure I'll do some more research in the morning, head out of it’s nothing.” I take a swig from my beer as he waves the bartender down. “We? Sam is here too?”

“Yea, he said he wanted to research and the bar would be too loud. The campus library is open late, so he's camping out there for the night.”

We fall silent, and I wish it didn't feel so awkward. There didn't used to be this...space. Now it feels like we are on two totally different tracks, speeding along next to each other but never actually crossing paths. Not even when we are sitting mere inches apart. I won't lie; the feeling sucks.

“It's been awhile. Why haven't you called?” I look over and he's fiddling with the label on his beer, pulling it off the bottle in tiny pieces like he's always done when he's nervous.

I shrug, “It’s been busy. Phones work two ways, you know.” I’ll just leave out the whole ‘cancer takes a lot of out of you’ part, and the bit where I shouldn’t be mixing alcohol with my pain medicine.

“Fair enough.” He clears his throat, “Listen, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about everything...about Bobby, about what...what I said.” His voice is quiet, but the apology packs a punch. Dean isn’t usually one to apologize, at least not easily.

“You weren’t the only one that said shitty things, Dean. It’s not like I offered you a fresh glass of sweet tea and invited you to sit on the porch with me so we could talk about our feelings.”

He chuckles and I finish my beer, sliding it down the bar as I grab the one Dean just bought for me. “I guess that’s true.” He sighs, “What happened to us? We were...we were good, weren’t we? You, me, and Sammy...we were the best.”

I glance over and really look at him for the first time since he’s sat down. He looks tired, his face more haunted than it was the last time I saw him. He looks like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and, considering he’s a Winchester, that’s probably not too far from the truth. He’s still handsome though; age has been kind to him. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes are more pronounced, and he looks like he hasn’t shaved in a few days. I like it, other than it hides how strong his jawline is.

“You still are.”

He smiles sadly and shakes his head, “If you knew...I’m not the best, not anymore.”

Without thinking, I put my hand on his arm and he looks up at me, “Life happened to us, Dean. And it’s not like one of the monsters that we can hunt down and destroy. Life sneaks up and picks and pulls you apart, and every once in awhile it gives you a little glimmer of hope, of what could be. If you’re lucky, the glimmer turns into something more, but for people like us...that’s all it is. A hope of what could be, not what’s going to happen. We save people, but we don’t save ourselves.”

I stare at my hand on his arm and remember what we used to be like; best friends, inseparable as soon as John put me in the backseat of the Impala. It wasn’t fair of me to blame him for Bobby’s death, but I had been angry and hurt. It never occurred to me that I wasn’t the only one that lost their father that day, not until it was too late, anyway. “You are a good man who has given up everything so that others don’t have to. I’m sorry I didn’t take the time to understand that before.”

Dean softly places his hand on top of mine and squeezes, “You’ve given up a lot, too.” He clears his throat and straightens up on the barstool, his hand moving from mine to his beer. “I think we need something a little stronger than beer. Still a whiskey girl?”

“You bet your sweet ass I am,” I respond with a smile, grateful that the familiar comfort I used to feel with Dean seems to have returned.

“D-do you remember that time we stole Bobby’s truck and went into town, I don’t even remember what we were lookin’ for, but we left and didn’t tell him?” I stumble slightly, and Dean catches my arm.

“How can you not remember what we were lookin’ for? You decided you wanted to go see Titanic, and you talked my stupid ass into it!”

I snort, “Pshtttt, you know you wanted to see some Kate Winslet boobies, don’t even pretend.”

“I had to pretend to be your brother so you could get in! Lemme just add that as much as I may have wanted to see Kate Winslet boobs, I by no means wanted to see them with you sitting next to me.”

“Listen, you loved that movie. I saw you cry.”

“Tha’s...tha’s bullshit. I don’t cry over chick flicks, ‘specially not when I’m with someone else in a public theater.” He gives his head an emphatic shake, as if that’s going to drive his point home.

“HA!” I stop and poke him in the chest, “You said ‘especially’, which means you’re not above doin’ it alone. Dean Winchester has feelings.”

“Oh, I had feelings, just wasn’t ‘bout the movie.”

“See! You have feelings, you just ad..mitt….wait, what?” My finger is still on his chest, and he smirks down at me.

“Y’heard me.” His eyes are sparkling, and the mischievous look he used to have when we were young is back. It makes him look like a kid again, and it’s enough to make me ignore how badly this could end. I forget that my decision has made this an impossibility, and I shift my hand so that it lays flat against his chest. He’s warm, God, he’s so warm and I can feel his heart beating against my palm.

“You had feelings?”

His hands land on my waist and he pulls me flush against him. I can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or his proximity, but my face feels hot as I stare up at him. “I never said they stopped.”

“Oh,” I breathe out, his words fuzzy and sharp at the same time. “I...d’ya want...I mean, my hotel room is jus’-” I don’t get a chance to finish my question because his lips are on mine and it’s like my entire brain short circuits. I would be lying if I said I never wanted to find out what this felt like. I assume any woman that looks at Dean wonders what it would be like.

I can promise you, there are no words to describe how it feels.

I can try. I can tell you that his lips are soft, softer than I could have ever imagined. He smells like gun oil and leather, with a hint of whiskey from our time at the bar. It reminds me of home, of riding in the backs of cars and learning how to fight, and how to care for people. He’s warm, even through all his layers it's radiating from him like a heater, and I can’t help but let my hands roam across his chest and down to the small of his back.

He pulls back and laughs softly and I take a moment to catch my breath. “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t think this can continue in public.” He shifts, and I am made aware as to why we should probably vacate the busy sidewalk.

“Come on, I think I can remedy that.” I grab his hand and start walking down the street again.

“Where are we going?”

“My hotel room, duh.” He laughs, and it’s like music to my ears. For the first time in a long time, everything feels...normal.

I’m not dying. We aren’t fighting monsters and evil, and we aren’t saving the world. We’re drunk, and we’re letting ourselves feel what normal people get to feel. It might just be a beautiful lie that we’re telling ourselves for this one night, but I don’t care. Because for once...for once it can just be us, and I don’t have to remember that it’s going to be short lived.

We stop in front of my motel room and I drunkenly dig through my pocket, but it’s made difficult by Dean grabbing me by the waist and pressing me against the wall next to the door.

“Dean, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I can’t…mmmm...I can’t get to my key.” His teeth graze my throat, right at my pulse, and I nearly melt. I can feel him smiling against me and I smack his arm. “You’re a little shit, you know that?”

“Oh, I know.” He pulls back and lets me finally pull the key free, watching in amusement as I fumble it into the lock. “Know what else I know?”

I look back at him as the door swings open, “What?”

“I’m damn lucky we decided to stop in Omaha.” He picks me up and carries me into the room, slamming the door shut behind us with his foot.

He isn't the only lucky one.

Now…

It's the beeping that gets me, the incessant dinging of machines, whirring sounds and footsteps, and the never ending barrage of announcements over the intercom system that finally pulls me out of what feels like a coma. Then the smell takes over; a suffocating cloud of cleaners and sanitizers that I only ever encounter in hospitals.

My eyes slowly open to see a blurry form sitting in the chair next to me, chin against his chest as he breathes slowly in and out, the cadence making it obvious he's asleep. Sunlight is creeping through the long, vertical blinds, and the television is turned to some daytime talk show rerun.

“Oh, you're awake!” I roll my head towards the door and see a smiling nurse walk through it and watch as she checks whatever machines I'm hooked to. “You gave us all quite the scare.”

“Sorry…” I don't know what else to say.

“Aww, honey, you don't need to be sorry. I'm just glad to see you're awake. I think he will be, too. He's refused to leave this entire time. Not even the threat of a security escort seemed to phase him.”

I look back over at Dean, who's shifted enough so that his head is tilted against the back of the chair, his mouth hanging open. “That sounds about right.” I struggle to sit up more, and she hurries over.

“Here, let me give you a hand. I'm going to call your doctor, she said she needs to have a little chat with you.” Her face falls slightly as she smooths out the blanket, then she clears her throat and suddenly the smile is back, “I'll be right back.”

“Wait…”

She turns to look at me, “Yes?”

“How long have I been out?”

Her smile disappears again and a crease appears between her brows, “Four days.” She disappears around the corner quickly as if she wants to avoid any other questions and I sigh. Four days.

I grab for the remote, but for a second it's like my hands forget how to do their job, like my brain isn't connected to them, so I juggle it for a second before it slips out of my hand and hits the floor with a crash. Dean jerks upright in his chair.

“What?! What the hell?” It takes a minute for his brain to register where he is and what made the noise, and I watch his eyes come into focus as he stares at me. “You're awake.”

“Yea…” I can feel tubing pressing against my nose and I reach up to pull it off. Dean leans over and puts his hand over mine, gently pushing my hand down to the bed.

“Leave it, they just got you stable enough to use that instead of a mask.” He leans back and watches me, but stays quiet. He looks like he’s thinking about what to say; I know he has a lot of questions, and I’m afraid of what he’ll ask first. I also wonder what he already knows, and how he’s managed to get in here and stay for such an extended amount of time.

“How’d you manage to not get kicked out?”

“Told ‘em we were married, that we were on our honeymoon.”

I would laugh, but I know it’s going to hurt. Judging by the look on his face, it probably isn’t wise anyway. “What about Sam?”

“Told ‘em he lives nearby and that we were visiting him. He’s getting coffee right now.” He crosses his arms, “It was a little harder to explain all the bruises, and why you were pumped full of painkillers before you got here. And the massive amount of blood you were coughing up, see that was the hardest one, because they just assume a husband would know his wife’s medical history.”

“Well, we aren’t actually married-”

“Nope, I’m gonna stop you right there.” He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, and the look of betrayal on his face makes it incredibly hard to look him in the eye. “We are family, Y/N. I get that maybe I want more than that, and that you aren't ready for it. That's fine, but you are still my family. We are supposed to take care of each other. We’re supposed to have each other’s backs, and you lying about this...it could have gotten any of us killed. You realize this, right? I should have realized at the hotel something was wrong...I should know the difference between lipstick and blood.”

“Dean…”

“Listen, I’m not...I’m not angry. I feel like I should be, but I’m not. I just want to understand why you didn’t think you could trust me with this. Why did you not let us help you?”

“It’s difficult to explain-”

“Hello, Y/N.” I recognize the voice before I even turn to face whoever interrupted me.

“Hey, doc.”

She walks around to the end of the bed, clipboard in hand, and glances over at Dean, “This is your husband?” I swallow nervously; she knows I’m not married. It’s not been that long since I’ve seen her. The look in her eyes is a soft accusation, but when I nod in confirmation, she gives him a gentle smile. “Nice to meet you.” She looks down at the chart and when she looks back up, I can see it on her face. “I think you probably know what I’m going to tell you, but I’m guessing he’d like to know what’s going on, and I think you need to know exactly how bad this is.”

That’s the one thing about her that I like; she’s straightforward, no bullshit. She somehow knows that Dean has no idea what’s going on, and I’m simultaneously impressed and terrified. He was never supposed to know about this. I was going to go out hunter style, a blaze of bloody glory. I was alone. Why didn’t I just stay alone?

“Your cancer has spread. It’s no longer just in one lung and the lymph nodes on that side, it’s in both, which is why you began to cough up so much blood. Honestly, I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. Your body is exhausted, and it’s starting to give up. Without treatment…” she trails off and looks at Dean, who looks like he’s about to be sick. “Even with treatment, it will simply be done to keep you comfortable, though it may prolong your life slightly. Without treatment, your time is very limited. I’m...I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay, but...I chose this. I knew what was going to happen.”

She nods, then gently pats my blanketed leg, “I’m going to go, give you some time to decide.” She looks at Dean one last time, then walks out of the room, shutting the door behind her. I drop my head back against the pillows and close my eyes. Shit.

“Cancer?” His voice is quiet, but rough with held back tears. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter; I can’t look at him.

“Dean, I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Omaha...I didn’t…”

“What are you going to do?” I look at him sharply, but he’s looking down at his hands instead of me.

“What do you mean?”

He looks up, and his eyes are even brighter from the tears he’s fighting against. It hurts more than anything else he could even say. “Are you going to do treatment, or no?”

I swallow thickly, knowing he’s not going to like the answer. I don’t like the answer, but it’s for the best. “I’m tired, Dean. I’m tired and broken, and I can’t drag this out longer. I just can’t. I don’t want to waste away in some bed somewhere, knowing that I’m just putting off the inevitable. I want to go home...I want to spend time with you and Sam, I want to save as many people as I can before it’s over. I just...I wanna go home.”

He blinks, then rubs a palm roughly against his eyes as he stands up, “Okay, well, let’s bust you out of here then. I’m gonna go talk to the nurse. I’ll...I’ll be back to get you. If Sammy comes back while I’m gone, let him know where I went.” He walks out of the room without another word.

I lay back and close my eyes, and I feel a tear roll down my cheek.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Read Part 5 HERE.

Like what you see? Would you like to see more? My Masterlist is here!

Forever Tags: @trexrambling @pinknerdpanda @wheresthekillswitch @emilywritesaboutdean @arryn-nyxx @emptywithout @escabell @charliebradbury1104 @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @deanssweetheart23 @canadianjelly @super-not-naturall @aubreyreadsstuff @dean-winchesters-baby @melissaj616 @fandomismyspiritanimal @keepcalmandcarryondean @assbutt-still-in-hell @owllover123 @rosie-winchester @amionthetumbler @duubaduu @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @goldenolaf25 @authoressskr @nanie5 @mrssamfuckingwinchester @zincomms @kathaswings @crazynerdandproud @barbedwireandbubblegum @sandlee44 @boxywrites @justanotherdeangirl @smalltowndivaj @captainradicalpassion @myloveforyouxx @atc74 @mrsbatesmotel53 @there-must-be-a-lock @masksandtruths @thelittleredwhocould @jotink78 @amanda-teaches @ilsawasanacrobat @squirrel-moose-winchester @mjdoc90 @anticipate1003 @mrswhozeewhatsis @mindsunleashed @mogaruke @speakinvain @linki-locks11 @wildlandfox @rhochradel @lostnliterature @fandom-queen-of-wonderland @spn-ficfanatic

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SPN Angst Bingo: @thekarliwinchester @emptywithout @winchesterxtwo @aubreystilinksi @castianityislife02

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