#i now physically understand Jack's 'unshed tears'

[diagnosedpsychosis]

Broken Promises

Description: Failed promise after failed promise, the reader finally thinks that this time Aaron will be able to keep his promise...

Word Count: 3.1k

______________________________________________________________

Unit Chief of the Behavioural Analysis Unit was an amazingly respected job, and you knew that better than anyone. You knew it meant your boyfriend Aaron would be away more than he was home, but he loved what he did and you loved seeing him get enjoyment out of it.

But as much as you tried to remain loving and understanding, his job also took its toll on you. If he wasn't home it was quiet and you were alone. Here and there you would help take care of his son, Jack, but Jessica, his aunty loved the kid so much because he reminded her of her departed sister that she was almost a full time carer for the boy.

Even though you were alone without Aaron, somehow you felt even more lonely when he was present. If he wasn't physically exhausted from a case, he was mentally exhausted, which meant days of walking on egg shells around him until he started acting like himself again. And then he'd be pulled back into work and flown half way across the country.

You had been together for years, but you'd only just started feeling the negative affects of his job in the last 6 months. Aaron knew something was up, you knew he knew. You also knew he was trying to fix things in his own way. Bring home flowers, leaves cases out of the house, wake you up with breakfast in bed.

Even when things got heated and passionate, Aaron would whisper sweet nothings in your ear as he thrusted into you. 'You are beautiful', 'I love you so much', 'I'd be nothing without you.' And in the moment it felt enough, like everything you ever wanted and needed, but it wasn't, because despite how much he claimed to love you you knew he loved his job more.

You knew that the second his phone rung he'd leave your side and wouldn't return for a week.

Today was different though, you told yourself over and over again, unable to fight the grin on your face as your style your hair for the fancy dinner out Aaron had promised. He'd made this same promise a number of times, and every single one of them fell through the roof because of a case, but this time felt different.

This time you were sure he was going to keep his promise. You didn't doubt him one bit, so when your phone started ringing and his name flashed you grinned with delight before answering the phone and putting it on speaker.

"Hey Handsome" You heard a hum on the other end of the line that made your heart swell. Hearing him after 5 days, even if it was just a hum made everything better.

"Hi Sweetheart" He sounded tired, understandably after a long case, but ignored it, knowing he hated when you sympathised with him in moments like these.

"So, I know you said you'd be here at 8, but I kind of got excited and got ready early and now I've got time if there's anything you need done-"

"Sweetheart, I'm not going to make it" You shut up, your smile frozen on your face as you wondered whether he'd actually spoken or if you'd thought it yourself. Your heart falls into your stomach as you stared at your reflection. You wanted to look nice for him, so you'd gotten yourself extra dolled up, but now... now he wasn't coming?

He'd broken his promise, again?

"What?" You asked, hoping it really was all just in your head.

"I know I promised I'd be home, but something has come up in Texas-" The rest of his words became background noise as you zoned out and in on your face in the mirror in front of you. The second unshed tears threatened your water line you closed your eyes. Exhausted. That's the best way to describe how you felt right now. You weren't upset, or angry, this was his job and you knew that the day you two went on your first day.

You were just exhausted. Tired of getting excited over and over again only to be let down every single time. You didn't blame Aaron, not one bit, but this whole situation, the way you've been living for the last 2 years, you were so tired of it... you couldn't do it anymore.

"It's fine, Aaron" You sighed, opening your eyes again and looking at yourself. A nice dress, hair and makeup done, you even did your nails because you know Aaron likes your red nail polish. All of it for nothing.

"I'm so sorry, honey" Aaron felt sick, like he was going to throw up. Guilt consumed him at having to cancel on you again, despite promising this time he'd finally be there for you. He loved you, with absolutely everything he had, and in a few years time he'd, with ease, drop everything for you. But he couldn't now. He wasn't ready to quit the FBI.

"It's fine, Aaron. It's always fine" Your reassurance is like a bullet to his heart. You were always so understanding, and Aaron knew he didn't deserve you, but he was just too selfish to let you go. What hurt more though, was hearing your voice crack. It was so faint, Aaron wondered if you'd even noticed.

"Y/n-" You didn't want to hear another apology come from his mouth, because he could apologise again and again and again, but it didn't make it any better. It only made saying 'it's fine' that much easier when it happened the next time.

"I'm tired, so I'm going to head to bed now" You weren't going to bed, but despite how much you loved Aaron, his voice was the last one you wanted to hear tonight. You were embarrassed, having been so excited for another failed plan. You cringed at your dolled up reflection, hating that the way you looked represented another disappointment.

"Y/n, please-" Aaron was desperate to talk even though he didn't know what else to say other than sorry, but you were desperate to hang up.

"Stay safe, alright?" Aaron was annoyed about the fact that he'd upset you and there you were still making sure he was safe and okay. You were putting him first despite the fact he had put you second again.

"I will. I love you" He said and closed his eyes waiting to hear you say it back. Instead he was met with radio silence. You hesitated to reply, not because you doubted how much you loved him, but because you doubted how much he loved you.

"You too. See ya" Before Aaron had even processed the fact you hadn't said it back, you hung up and practically threw your phone across your room. You hated feeling like this. You wanted to cry, but you felt like if you did you were being overdramatic. You thought it was unfair to Aaron if you reacted the way you wanted to, whereas he felt it was unfair to you.

The team needed Penelope with them, so they'd stopped off back in Virginia to pick her up. This is where Aaron stood, just outside the jet, phone in his hand down by his side as he stared out at the runway.

You didn't say 'I love you too' and that was all he could think about. No matter how many times he'd cancelled on you and called to disappoint you, you always hung up with an 'I love you', but not today. That was all Aaron needed to know that today was different, and he had royally fucked up with you.

There was nothing more he wanted to do than turn around and walk home to you, but his team needed him. One word from them and he'd leave for yours in a heartbeat. He needed to fix this. He needed to make sure you were okay. He needed you.

Aaron stepped back onboard and it was almost as if the air had changed in the jet. Every single member of the team knew something was up the second he hopped back onto the jet. His posture was the same, his usual blank frown, from the outside he looked like he did everyday, but they'd all been on the team long enough to know Aaron's tell- the way he opens and closes his hand into a tight fist by his side.

It was something he did when he felt overwhelmed. Not knowing how to react, or how to busy himself, he clenched and unclenched his hand over and over again, not even noticing it himself. And right now as he sat down across from Rossi and Derek, he clenched his hand tighter than usual, something they both immediately noticed.

"Everything alright?" Rossi asked, placing the case file back on the small table and putting all his attention on Aaron. Even Derek subtly paused the music flowing through his headphones, and lifted his eyes.

"No, I don't think so" Aaron sighed, running a hand down his face tiredly as he glanced out the jet window, seeing the headlights of the SUV Penelope was coming in from afar.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"It's Y/n" Whether or not Aaron usually spoke much about his and your relationship, the team knew that if something was wrong with you and it was putting a dampener on his mood, then it was serious. Serious enough that Aaron had closed the new Texas case file and slid it away from himself.

Rossi immediately understood. He's known of a couple of the times Aaron has had to cancel on you, and how you had reacted to each of them. "I'm sure everything is fine, Aaron. Y/n is a very understanding woman."

"That's the problem. 'It's fine. It's always fine' is what she said" Derek decided he'd add his little bit, still not understanding the issue quite the way Rossi did.

"I don't understand. You've got yourself a beautiful woman who not only understands your workload, but respects it too" What Derek said only made Aaron feel worse.

"Yeah but she's upset. She doesn't say it, but I can here it in her voice. I promised I'd finally take her out for dinner tonight after having to cancel on her time and time again" Aaron, despite how calm he may have sounded, was getting worked up.

"Aaron-"

"She was so excited, and finally, when she thinks I'm calling to tell her I'm on my way, it's actually me calling to disappoint her again. She doesn't deserve it" The way Aaron drifted off at the end made both Derek and Rossi frown. It almost sounded like he was coming up with a solution for your disappointment in his head.

"So what, you're going to break up with her?" Rossi asked, but Aaron was quick to shake his head, his gaze drifting back out the jet window as he sighed.

"I love her too much to lose her" Aaron mumbled, absentmindedly playing with your hair tie he keeps on his wrist at all times, just in case.

"So, keep your promise" The words. The few words Aaron needed to hear to make him run to you, but you didn't want him to run to you.

In fact, you were glad Aaron wasn't with you, otherwise he would've heard your sobs and seen your streaking mascara. Half an hour it took you to actually force yourself up and out of the seat at your vanity. You had wiped off most of your makeup, although getting some of the mascara and eyeliner off was harder so there was a very faint black smudge around your eyes. You'd ran your hands through your hair so many times that the curls had been pulled apart leaving your hair a little frizzier than before.

All you had to do now was take off your shoes and dress. You unbuckled both black heels but before you could slip out of the dress there was a knock at the door. Not having the energy to put up with whoever was on the other side of the door you ignored it, hoping they'd get the memo or that they'd think nobody was home and leave. 15 seconds later though and there was another knock. You left it again, but when the person knocked for a third time you huffed and stormed over to the door.

"Yes?" You grunted swinging open the door and freezing as your eyes met Aaron's dark brown ones. Your hand tightened around the door knob as you shuffled back slightly, not expecting him to be standing there with a bunch of tulips.

"Hi" His voice was so soft, worried you didn't want him there, but turning up anyway cause there was nowhere he'd rather be. Your eyes began to burn, but you quickly blinked away the feeling, licking your bottom lip before looking back up at his face.

"What are you doing here?" Aaron takes a step forward, holding the tulips in one hand, and his go bag in his other.

"Keeping my promise."

"I'm not in the mood to go out anymore" You reply, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear, Aaron nodding and offering you a soft smile to let you know that's okay. If Aaron was honest, he wasn't in the mood to go out either. He just wanted to stay in with you, forever.

"That's fine. We'll stay in" Aaron noticed the fact your hand was still on the doorknob and the way you hadn't really moved from the front door. You were hesitant to let him in.

"You're supposed to be on your way to Texas" You mumbled, looking away from his face and down at the ground. Aaron took a step forward, and despite the clear fact you weren't overly fond of him in this moment, you didn't move. Because despite being upset, you loved him, and you loved his presence and the warmth he radiated.

"No, the team are on their way to Texas. I'm here with you" He bent his head a little, hoping to catch your eye but still couldn't. He hated seeing anything other than a smile on your beautiful face. Knowing you were upset and it was his fault killed him on the inside.

"You shouldn't be here" You sighed, finally looking up. Aaron's stare trapped you, stopping you from looking away from him. Intense and raw, he held you hostage with just his eyes and even though you were upset, you couldn't deny the way they were able to calm you. Slightly.

"They can manage perfectly fine without me."

"Aaron-"

"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness. I don't deserve a lot, especially you, but I'm going to prove to you that I can deserve you" Aaron stated, placing the tulips on the little table beside the door that you usually chucked your mail on. Then he lightly shut the door, eyes watching you intently as you spoke.

"Aaron, I'm not angry at you. This is your job. I knew that the moment I met you, and I continued to understand that when I realised I was in love with you. But I feel like I'm suffocating here, which I get is ironic for the fact you're not around much-"

"I'm stepping down" The short and sharp confession caught you off guard, your eyes widening as you stared at a deadly serious Aaron. You thought you'd misheard him, but the look on his face told you otherwise. He'd definitely said what you heard, and he definitely meant it.

"What?"

"I've been thinking about it for a while, but on the ride here it became official. I'm stepping down from Unit Chief, I'll stay a profiler in the BAU, but it means a lot less work, and a lot more time here with you-"

"What? No, you can't do that" You quickly interrupted, shaking your head. You couldn't tell him what to and what not to do, but you were going to pretend you could right now in hopes he'd listen, understand and agree.

"It's too late. It's official and effective immediately" You stared, eyes wide in disbelief as they bounced across his face.

"You didn't even want to talk about this with me first?"

"What's there to talk about?" He shrugged.

"Aaron, you've been Unit Chief for ages. If you're stepping down for me-" Your words are cut short as Aaron places his bag on the ground and steps into you. Your lips remain parted and you can't help but melt into him as his hands grasp onto your face, pulling your forehead to his lips momentarily. He pressed a lingering kiss before pulling back and staring deeply into your eyes.

"That's exactly why I'm stepping down, honey. You. Because I love you so god damn much and because being away from you week after week is killing me. At the end of every night I want to fall asleep in bed beside you, not in a crappy motel alone. I want to be here, with you. You're my home, Y/n" Your eyes water the longer you stare at the man you love. He was giving up so much for you and you couldn't help but feel guilty even if he made it clear how much he wanted it.

"Aaron..." You whisper, your gaze jumping between his eyes as he rubs his thumbs along your keep bones. He leans forward and presses his forehead to yours, his eyes remaining on your face even when you close your eyes.

"You're not holding me back from my job, my job was holding me back from you. I'll still be gone here and there, but I will make it my mission to get back to you as soon as possible. This is my decision and there is nothing you could do or say that'd make me change my mind" So dominant, so serious, so definite. This was Aaron's decision to make, not yours, his, and he couldn't be more happier. He was going to miss being Unit Chief, but being with you made up for it and more.

"Are you sure?" You whisper, running your hands up his shoulders and into his hair. Aaron presses his head back into your hands, urging you to run your hands through his hair.

"Yes honey, I'm sure" Aaron whispers back before tilting his head and pressing his lips flush against yours. You suck in a sharp breath, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulls you tight into his chest, his lips refusing to leave yours even for a second. This was all you both wanted; each other. You ran your hands through his hair before slipping them down until you're cupping his jaw and pulling his mouth from yours.

"I love you" You whisper, leaning forward and brushing your lips back against Aaron's. His breath is hot and minty against your face as he crack's an inevitable smile. You said it back...finally.

"I love you too."

[diavorchid]

fuck this entry really almost made me bawl.

She greeted us warmly and said:—

"You will be glad to know that Lucy is better.

first it took my heart and elevate it,

The dear child is still asleep. I looked into her room and saw her, but did not go in, lest I should disturb her.

and made me suspicious,

"You must not take all the credit to yourself, doctor. Lucy's state this morning is due in part to me."

veeery suspicious,

"Well, I was anxious about the dear child in the night, and went into her room.

my heart dropped.

so I took them all away and opened a bit of the window to let in a little fresh air. You will be pleased with her, I am sure."

and then i felt it being stepped on and my heart is breaking. i broke down at the same time the Professor's heart broke down before he could let it out😭

[rpsocsandcanonohmy]

Beaten and Bruised

Author: rpsocsandcanonohmy

Title: Beaten and Bruised

Created for @jackklinebingo

Squares filled: Caning

Warnings: Guilt, Beatings, Bruises, Bleeding, Pain, Caning, Punishment, Self-Hatred

Additional tags: Hurt/Comfort, Jack Klins & Sam Winchester, Related to Canon Events

A/N: This work was also created for Whumptober 2021 and the @whumptober-archive. Day 14- Beaten

----

Jack approached Sam late one night, when the Bunker was quiet and everyone else had gone to bed. “Can we talk?”

“Sure.” Sam set his book down. “What’s up?”

Jack bit his lip and lifted his eyes, unshed tears glistening in the below light. “I-I’m sorry. About Mary. A-And everything else.”

“I know you are,” Sam said softly. “I forgive you.”

“I know. And that’s the problem.” Jack wiped his cheeks and looked away. “You shouldn’t. I killed Mary without a second thought and I couldn’t fix it. I ran away and then I acted like it was nothing when you confronted me about it. And-And I never apologized. I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

“Hey….” Sam approached him and gently hugged him. “Hey, it’s okay. I know…. Well, okay, maybe I don’t know exactly how you feel right now but I know what it’s like to hate yourself for things that feel unforgivable. And I know it’s going to be a long time before you feel like you can have forgiveness. But I forgive you and I know Dean does too. Just...give it time. It’ll feel better.”

Jack shook his head. “No…”

“It will,” Sam insisted. “And I’m here to help with that. If you ever need anything, someone to talk to or anything like that, I’m here. Okay?”

Jack chewed his bottom lip. “Anything?”

“Of course.”

“....Would you punish me?”

Sam pulled back, holding Jack’s shoulders while he searched his face. “...Why?”

Jack shrugged. “I don’t deserve forgiveness right now. Maybe...maybe if you punish me, I’ll feel like I do.”

Sam nodded. “I-Okay. I understand that. How- What punishment do you want?”

“Something that hurts.” Jack stepped away. “Just...let me know when you have something figured out. I don’t want time to prepare though. No warnings.”

Sam watched him walk away, mind whirring at a mile a minute as he went through his options.

-----------

It took him a few weeks to come up with something that Jack would (hopefully) consider painful enough that Sam was also comfortable with. He told Jack to meet him in the dungeon after Dean went to bed and didn’t share any details, heeding the warning for no warnings. Hopefully Jack would accept that.

Dean had a collection of vintage porn magazines; Sam had a collection of vintage accessories. Among the pocket watches and totally-not-curse brooches were a few canes, one of which was quite sturdy and had quite a heft to it. It would do well for what was needed.

Jack was already there when he arrived. “Are you ready?” he asked, closing the wall behind him.

“No,” Jack replied.

“Good.” Sam set the cane to the side. “Strip and kneel in the circle.” While he waited, he rolled his own sleeves up to his elbows.

“How do I-”

“Face the wall, Jack.” He told himself this was a good thing. Jack needed this to feel forgiven, even if the mere idea of putting him through pain made him want to hurl. It was worth it. Jack would heal from the physical wounds and then maybe the emotional ones would start to heal too.

He took a deep breath, picked up the cane, and faced his surrogate son. Jack was facing the wall, bare back facing Sam and his instrument of torture. He slowly let out the breath and stepped closer, lifting the cane for his first strike.

Smack

He delivered it without warning and bit his tongue to stop any soothing remarks when he saw Jack’s flinch. The pain was important, he reminded himself.

Smack

Jack yelped and Sam bit the inside of his cheek. This would be worth it. It would hurt, but it would be worth it. 

He kept going at an even pace, spicing up the rhythm here and there to keep Jack on his toes. Strike after strike landed on Jack’s back, causing burning red lines and angry welts to form on his skin. It was painful to look at, though it must’ve felt a helluva lot worse. He blanched when the cane started gathering blood but he didn’t stop. He kept going until he thought Jack would be satisfied, until the plane of his back was nothing more than a mess of crisscrossed welts and bruises and Jack was crying.

He dropped the cane after the final blow, ignoring any protests Jack might have as he cradled the boy in his arms and whispered soothing words in his ear. He carded his fingers through Jack’s hair and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “You did good, you did so good,” he praised, gently wiping away the tears. “You were good. You are good. I forgive you. Was that what you needed?”

Jack sniffed and nodded, nuzzling his face in Sam’s chest. “Y-Yeah...I think so….”

Sam held him and kept up his soft praise while Jack’s body healed itself from the ordeal. He watched with morbid fascination as the deep welts slowly melted back into smooth skin. Afterward, he carried Jack back to his room and tucked him into bed. “There we are...get some rest,” he murmured. “Goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning….”

Jack hummed softly and rolled over onto his stomach as he was pulled into a light sleep.

Sam went back to his room and shut the door. He pressed his back against the door and slid down to the floor. Once he was there, alone and vulnerable, he let his own tears out. He cried. He cried for Mary and her passing. He cried for the loss of yet another loved one. He cried for Dean and his own pain. And he cried for Jack and his inner turmoil, for what had to be done that day. He cried until he was out of tears and then he forced himself to get up and get on the bed to find what little sleep he could until the morning came.

If Dean noticed they were both quiet at breakfast the next morning, he didn’t say anything.

[nade2308]

12 and 26 for drabble featuring Mac and/or Jack

When Mac woke up, he could tell that something was different. There wasn't a creepy stare to watch over him, nor the blinking dot on the camera in the corner. 

The bed wasn't his, but he was warm and he burrowed in the blankets that he was wrapped in. 

There was someone in the room with him and that someone was safe, Mac could tell. So Mac went back to sleep (technically he didn't even open his eyes). 

The next time Mac woke up though, it was dark. There was only a sliver of light getting in the room, but it wasn't enough for Mac to see where he was. There was a shadow moving towards the bed, and Mac thought that Murdoc finally decided to do what he wanted since the first time they met. The way he stripped Mac with his eyes, made Mac feel more vulnerable than ever, naked with his clothes still on. 

A hand reached out to touch him and Mac flinched, recoiling from the gloved hand touching his forearm. 

“Mac?” 

But the voice… the voice did not belong to Murdoc. 

It. It couldn't be… 

“Mac, hey, it's me. It's Jack.” 

There was some shuffling and the lights were turned on. The lamp on the bedside table. Mac looked from the lamp to the hand on the bed. It wasn't a gloved hand, it was Jack's hand fisted in the blanket, ring still on and the veins bulging on his forearm from how tight he had his hand clenched. 

Looking around he could see that he was in Jack's room. In Jack's apartment. 

“Jack?” 

“Yes, it's me.” 

“What happened?” 

“What do you remember?”

“Murdoc… he kidnapped me. Took me somewhere. Don't know.” 

Mac could see and hear Jack sigh before he sat on the edge of the bed. His eyes were bloodshot and there were deep bruises underneath the eyes that came up to his cheeks. 

Just how long did Murdoc keep him?

“That creep took you on Wednesday. It's Friday… well, technically Saturday now.” 

There was something in Jack's voice, Mac couldn't tell what it was, but Jack was holding something back. It was the voice he usually used when he was trying hard not to let on how much he was hurting. 

Then, some flashes of memories came to Mac. Murdoc knocking him out in the parking lot of the store Mac went to buy the beers from. Waking up in a cold room, tied on the bed, with his shirt unbuttoned and his belt gone with his pants unbuttoned and unzipped. But Mac didn't feel like… like that happened, so Murdoc must have done that for show, to make Mac think that he raped him. Get inside Mac's head, play with him, fuck with his sanity. 

More memories flooded Mac's mind as he remembered cold hands roaming his body. Murdoc actually pulled his gloves off for this one. And then something being injected in him. 

“Mac? Are you okay?” 

Mac didn't realize he was shaking until Jack spoke up. Jack reached with his hand again but pulled it back before he touched him. Mac bit his lip. He wanted Jack to hold him and to tell him it was going to be okay, but… 

“How did you find me?”

Jack swallowed hard and looked at his lap. Something was definitely wrong. 

“Murdoc sent us a link with… live feed.” 

The blink of the red dot on a camera in the corner. 

Mac gasped. 

“First, he sent me a message. You know, one of those with his creepy lyrics and quotes.” 

Mac nodded. Some things never changed. 

“We were all at your place by that point. I saw your note tacked on the counter.” Jack smiled sadly. “When he texted, I told Riley and she tried to trace the number, but it was a burner.” 

Jack stopped talking, like he was trying to physically prepare himself for what he was going to say. 

“Several hours later, he sent Riley an email with the live feed link.” 

Mac didn't have to ask what was the link for. He was blessed (or cursed) to not remember most of it. He couldn't say that about his family. 

“He… he was taunting us. He was taunting me. And… he was right. I mean, he took you right under my nose and I-” 

“Jack…” 

“I should have been more careful. I didn't even notice he was following you. Or any of us. Maybe he followed us all. I don't know, but this was planned. He… he almost-” Jack looked up at Mac and Mac could see the fear and regret in Jack's eyes as well as the sadness. 

“He didn't. I remember that. He didn't. He just wanted me to think he did.” 

Jack nodded, and Mac could see the unshed tears in his eyes. 

“Wasn't your fault.”

“I don't know about that.” 

“Jack, it was not your fault. Okay?”

Jack looked away, and Mac had enough of this.

Jack oomphed surprisedly when Mac threw himself at Jack. 

“What-” 

Mac held on tight and felt Jack's arms wrap around him in a hug, far lighter than Mac knew Jack's grip could be. 

“I am not going to break, go on.”

Jack seemed to understand what Mac was saying and pulled Mac to his chest, holding him tight. 

“I'm sorry… I'm so sorry. This shouldn't have happened. I should have been there.” 

“There was nothing we could do to predict him kidnapping me, Jack. And you know Murdoc, if he wants to do something, he'd do it. No matter what we have to say about that.”

“I can't help but think, if I was just…” 

“You found me. You came for me. That's all that matters.” 

“You remember that?” 

“Yes. I remember how safe I felt when you found me. I knew you'd come.” 

“I'm glad I got there when I did. I'm glad you are safe.” 

“Me too.” 

Mac shivered and realized now that he wasn't confused, that he had thrown the blankets away. Jack must have felt it, because he felt Jack move and a moment later, Jack wrapped the blanket around him while still hugging him. 

Mac burrowed in the warmth and sighed. It was going to be okay. Jack was here. Everything was more bearable with him around. 

[frenchfrysplash]

fic: between heaven, the sky, the earth

The Haunting of Bly Manor

Dani/Jamie

Chapter 5/10

Read on AO3 Here! Or you can continue into the Read More.

Summary: Jamie goes between one moment, and the next. Falling around her like rain, like snow.

She’s here for a reason. Here to help.

She just needs to remember.

————————————–

Somewhere deep in the dark

A howling beast hears us talk

- Of Monsters and Men, Yellow Light

July 1991

A small girl was staring Jamie down.

"Hmmm." Jamie's gaze flickered between her opponent and her cards. "Got any eights?"

"Go Fish," said the small girl.

"No eights at all?" Jamie asked, incredulous. "None?"

"Nope."

"You didn't have any aces either."

"Mm-mm."

"Or any kings. Or queens. Or jacks."

A shake of the head.

"Are you holding fake cards or something? Am I being tricked?"

The little girl giggled. "Go fish!"

"I think I'm being cheated," Jamie grumbled, as she picked up a card to add to her impossibly large hand. "Poppins, do you think she's cheating?"

"Sam would never cheat," Dani said automatically from the kitchen.

"Right," Jamie narrowed her eyes. "Well, go on then. Ask me."

"Got any twos?" Sam, who was most certainly cheating, asked.

Jamie handed them over.

"I can't believe I'm getting my arse handed to me by a five-year-old," she muttered.

"Please don't swear in front of the children," Dani called.

Jamie's head whipped towards her, eyes round. "How did she even hear that?" She stage-whispered to Sam.

"She has super hearing," Sam whispered back. "That's what Liz says."

"She might be on to something." Jamie looked at the other small girl in her charge, who was leaning against Jamie's arm with a book that looked far too old for her. "What d'you think, Lizzie?"

"Dani's a superhero," Liz said, not looking up from her book.

"Oh?" Jamie raised an eyebrow. "And what makes you say that?"

"She has different coloured eyes."

"That's called het-hetro-hetrachr-hetercho-" Sam's little face scrunched up as she attempted the word.

"Heterochromia," Dani supplied, appearing at the door to the kitchen, smiling softly.

"Yeah!" Sam waved at her. "That!"

"Dani," Jamie said solemnly. "If that's really how you feel, I understand, but we have an apartment together-"

She was cut off by a dish towel hitting her in the face, causing the two little girls to dissolve into giggles.

"Ok, troublemakers," Dani said, ignoring her girlfriend's indignant spluttering. "Dinner's ready. Go wash your hands please."

The two little girls leapt up, and raced for the bathroom. Jamie put her ridiculous hand of cards down and pushed herself up off the ground, groaning.

"I'm getting old," she said, stretching. "Shouldn't be sitting on floors so much anymore."

"You can crouch in front of a rose bush for hours," Dani said, coming over to her. "But you can't sit on a floor for a game of cards?"

"I am filled with complexities, me," Jamie said, grinning.

Dani hummed, and began straightening Jamie's clothes, where they had gotten rumpled from sitting on the floor. She adjusted the collar sticking out over her sweater, and pressed a soft kiss to Jamie's lips.

"Gross!"

The two women broke apart, still smiling, and turned to face the children, now hovering in the doorway, hands out to cover each other's eyes. Dani laughed, and made her way over to them, hands on her hips.

"Alright, alright," she said. "Let's see those hands."

Sam and Liz held out their hands, and Dani inspected them closely, turning each one over, before nodding decisively.

"Perfectly clean," she said. "Let's eat."

She led the little girls into the kitchen, where dinner was set on the table; home-made pizza, with toppings added by Sam and Liz and Jamie, crust made by Dani. Excited, the little girls clambered into their seats, waiting impatiently for Dani and Jamie to sit at their own.

Babysitting the Larson twins was always an experience, one Jamie treasured. Dani hadn't had many chances to interact with kids since Bly, and while Jamie knew she was happy in their life together - with the shop, the apartment, the one-day-at-a-time-but-not-really of it all - she recognized that working with children was something Dani missed. So watching her talk to the two girls about why pineapple was objectively the best pizza topping made Jamie's heart ache in the best way.

"I dunno, Poppins," Jamie said, making a face. "I believe fruit of all kinds should be kept away from pizza."

"I like it," Liz declared. "Can we put pineapple on pizza next time?"

"For sure!" Dani said warmly.

"Absolutely not," Jamie said at the same time.

They pretended to glare at each other from across the table, though Jamie could see that Dani was fighting back laughter.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Dani said to Liz. "We won't let mean ol' Jamie get in the way of our delicious pizza."

"We won't!" Liz said gleefully, shaking her head to add emphasis.

A tug on Jamie's sleeve caused her to look at the other twin, who was leaning over the table towards her with an earnest expression.

"I don't want pineapple either," Sam whispered.

"We'll stage a rebellion, don't you worry," Jamie whispered back.

"What's a rebellion?"

"It's when you stop Poppins here from ruining pizza."

Sam's eyes lit up. "We're gonna have a rebellion!" She exclaimed.

"Can I help?" asked Liz.

"No! You're on Dani's side!"

"I wanna be in the rebellion!"

"Now look what you've done," Dani said, voice long-suffering.

"I feel a little rebellion is good for 'em," Jamie said, leaning back in her chair and resting her arms behind her head. "Builds character."

Dani sighed and shook her head, but she was smiling. Jamie grinned back, warmth swelling in her chest like a balloon.

After dinner they put on The Little Mermaid, which Dani had rented and which the twins watched with wide eyes. This, unfortunately, had the side effect of a sing-along beginning just as Dani and Jamie tried to put the girls to bed. A long, adorable battle ensued, until the kids were fast asleep, and Dani and Jamie were cuddled together on the couch, sipping wine and relaxing.

"God, kids are tiring," Jamie sighed, snuggling further Dani's neck. "You're warm."

"I absolutely blame you for that last burst of energy at the end there," Dani said, fingers trailing through Jamie's hair.

Jamie craned her neck to look up at her. "Oi, what'd I do?"

"'Little bit of rebellion's good for 'em,'" Dani mocked her, accent as terrible as it had been that morning in the greenhouse. "'Builds character.' God you're so full of it sometimes."

"I stand by it," Jamie said, settling back down and nuzzling at Dani's collarbone. She placed a small kiss there and smiled, humming contentedly.

They lay in silence for a moment, Jamie dozing in the comfort of Dani's embrace, Dani gazing at the Star Trek episode playing on TV.

"Have you thought about having kids?"

Jamie jolted into awareness, pushing herself up so she was level with Dani's face, which was still turned towards the television.

"Run that by me again?" Jamie asked, breathless.

Dani turned to look at her, the crease between her blue eyes signalling her seriousness.

"Kids," she repeated. "Have you thought about it?"

"Well, I mean, I, uh." Jamie stopped, breathed in, and started again. "Honestly, Poppins, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't."

Dani nodded, looking away, corners of her mouth curling downwards. "Right."

"With you, Dani," Jamie said, adjusting herself so she could use her other hand to push Dani's chin up, to face her. "You - you get that, yeah? I've thought about having kids with you, specifically."

A humourless smile flashed across Dani's face. "Well, I'm not sure that's physically possible, but I can do my best."

Jamie allowed herself a small chuckle. "We'll come back to that when we're back in our apartment," she said. "But seriously, Dani, have you thought about kids? With, uh." She cleared her throat. "With me?"

Dani didn't answer right away, eyes unfocusing as she seemed to consider this.

"Of course I have," she said finally. Her voice was rough, and Jamie was dismayed to see unshed tears in her eyes. "Jamie, of course I've thought about having kids with you." The tears spilled over, and Jamie felt that familiar panic at the thought of Dani crying rising in her chest.

"Oh, darlin'." Jamie leaned up, kissing her on her forehead, her cheeks, her chin, and the corner of her mouth. "I swear I wouldn't be that terrible of a mum. No need to cry at the thought."

Dani laughed, wiping at her eyes. "No, you idiot," she said affectionately. "I think you'd be a great mom. That's the problem."

At Jamie's confused expression, she sighed.

"She could still take me," she said softly. "You know that."

Jamie nodded. "I do," she said, matching Dani's quiet tone.

"So no matter how much I want it," Dani took in a shuddering breath. "It just can't happen. Because then I might leave you, alone, with a child, and I can't-"

Fresh tears came then, and Dani buried her face in Jamie's neck, entire body shaking. Jamie cradled the back of Dani's head, pressing her lips to her hair and murmuring soothingly. After a few minutes, Dani stilled, and pulled back.

"Oh." She tutted. "Your shirt." She wiped ineffectively at the damp spot on Jamie's shirt.

"Don't worry about it, it'll dry." Jamie ducked her head to catch Dani's gaze, rubbing soothing circles on her shoulder. "Hey, look at me for a second."

Dani forced herself to look into Jamie's eyes, lip still trembling.

"Listen," Jamie said. "I never thought I would even consider having a family before." She paused, lifting her shoulder in a half shrug. "My, ah, history with families isn't exactly great, as you know. And growing up, the way I did, and then realizing I was more interested in the fairer sex, well," she shot Dani a small grin. "I never thought kids were in the cards for me. Thought, even if they were, I would probably fuck 'em up somehow. But you," she laughed lightly, and ran her knuckles gently down Dani's cheek. "God, Dani, with you, anything seems possible, y'know?"

Dani's lips quirked up in a small smile. "You're so good with Sam and Liz, and with Miles and Flora." She shifted, pulling herself further up on the couch. "Give yourself more credit."

"Bit different being a babysitter or an aunt than it is being a mum," Jamie pointed out.

"That's what I mean," Dani said. "You deserve the chance to find that out for yourself."

"Dani," Jamie said warningly. "Don't. Don't go down that road."

It wasn't a new conversation; that Jamie deserved more, deserved better, deserved someone she knew would stick around, wouldn't leave her one night as a ghost took Dani away.

"Jamie," Dani started. "It's not fair-"

"No, it's not," Jamie agreed, pushing up to lean her forehead against Dani's. "It's not fair, because you'd be an amazing mum, and with you, I think I would have a good chance at not making any messes. It's not fair that we won't get that chance."

Dani's breath hitched, more tears leaking out. She opened her mouth, no doubt to keep arguing that Jamie shouldn't have to stay tied to a dead woman walking, but footsteps from the hallway interrupted her.

"Is that one of the kids?" Dani asked, twisting awkwardly to look.

"No," Jamie breathed, staring at the doorway to the hall. "It's not."

Viola smiled back at her sadly, looking more human than Jamie had ever seen her. Still not quite there - like a wax figure at Madame Tussaud's, Jamie thought, but her eyes were no longer cloudy, and she seemed to be almost completely dry. Slowly, Jamie pushed herself up from where she lay tangled in Dani, so she was sitting up straight on her knees.

"It's not fair," Viola said, moving into the room, words dropping like stones into the room. "And I suppose it's my fault, isn't it?"

"Oh," Jamie's mouth twisted, anger welling up in her chest. "D'you think?"

"Yes." Viola stopped at the couch, and sat down next to Jamie, who realized with a start that Dani had disappeared. "None of us really had a chance to be mothers, did we?" She looked at Jamie. "You, me, or Dani."

"You took her away before we could even try," Jamie bit out, fists clenching on her thighs.

"You're angry," Viola observed. "I understand."

"Do you really?" Jamie asked, voice shaking. "You took Dani's life from her. Stole it, before her time. We could have had so many more years together. We could have had a family. There are so many things we are never going to get to do, because you-"

She stopped, closing her eyes and breathing through her nose, nostrils flaring. Slowly, she sank back onto her heels, counting backwards from twenty.

This was not productive, she reminded herself. Her anger would do nothing to help Dani.

"I-" Viola's voice made Jamie open her eyes again. "I understand. How you feel."

Jamie said nothing, fighting to keep her temper under control.

"Well, perhaps not exactly," Viola reasoned, watching Jamie out of the corner of her eye. "I was a mother, but not in a way that mattered. By the time she was old enough to remember me, I was an ill, bitter woman. A ghost, really."

"Ironic," Jamie said stiffly.

Viola chuckled. "Yes." She agreed. She looked at Jamie, eyes dark and sad. "I think I've been looking for her, all these years. I want her to be with me."

Jamie frowned. "You wanted to bring your daughter to be with you," she said slowly. "At the bottom of a lake?"

Viola's mouth hardened. "She's my daughter. Shouldn't she be with me?"

"At the cost of her life?"

Jamie barely flinched at Dani's voice. Somehow, she had felt her before she spoke, standing behind the couch, arm resting next to Jamie's head. She was staring at Viola, eyes hard, brow furrowed, fist clenched.

"I am her mother," Viola said, rising from the couch and turning to face Dani, voice growing louder. "She should have been with me the whole time. My time with her was taken from me. All I wanted was to get back what was rightfully mine."

"Your daughter was a person," Dani said. "She wasn't anyone's."

Viola scoffed. "Of course you would say that."

"Of course she would-" Jamie looked between the two women, eyes wide. "What does that mean?"

Dani and Viola continued to glare at each other, as darkness closed in on all sides around them. Jamie grabbed for Dani's hand desperately, only to watch her fingers slip through it as though there was nothing there.

"Dani-!" But Dani was gone. Viola was gone. All at once, Jamie's vision was filled with a blinding light, and her hearing deafened by a great clap of thunder, and then there was nothing.

Nothing, except-

————————————–

June 1987

The thunder rumbled twice more before fading away, the blessed silence letting Jamie relax back into the couch cushions, unknotting the tension in her shoulders slowly. She eyed Miles and Flora, fast asleep on the floor in front of the fireplace; but neither of them had woken up, evidently exhausted from all the excitement of the night.

It was always strange, being at the manor after dark. Jamie was usually gone by supper, or just after when she was coaxed to stay by Flora or Owen. The great house became unfamiliar to her at night, painted with shadows and strange noises, the life that filled it during the day falling into an uneasy sleep.

But it wasn't so bad now. The sitting room was warm, and Jamie was comfortably ensconced on the couch next to Dani, content that even if Peter Quint had been spotted on the grounds, everyone she loved was in one room, and her shotgun was within reach. The spiked hot chocolate had even loosened her enough to let herself watch Dani out of the corner of her eye, as Dani studied the polaroid of Peter and Rebecca.

"Oh," Hannah's voice, quiet, from across the room, where she had fallen asleep against Owen's shoulder. "God, I'm so sorry, I-truth be told, I haven't slept well for days."

"Oh Mrs. Grose," Owen replied softly. "It is too late now." He gestured to his shoulder. "Go on, tuck in and relax for a bit."

Jamie smiled into her drink as Hannah let her head fall back to Owen's shoulder. Her eyes slid over to Dani, and she felt a familiar hitch in her chest at the sight. This little crush, which she'd been nursing on the au pair ever since Dani had told her she was right to be angry about her roses, was starting to get annoying.

"Rather that was you curled up there?" she murmured, leaning forward and dragging Dani's attention away from the photograph. At Dani's confused expression, she motioned towards Owen and Hannah.

"Every girl in the village is mad for him," she said, rolling her eyes. "And he doesn't even know it, which makes it even worse."

Dani laughed softly, but immediately turned back to the photograph.

"They look like Bonnie and Clyde," she said.

Jamie held back a scoff. "Yeah, if Clyde fucked Bonnie over." She scowled at the photo in Dani's hand. "He got away, she paid the price."

"So, what," Dani turned to her. "He's stalking a dead woman? Risking prison for someone he didn't even bother to bring along? That doesn't make sense."

Jamie sighed, avoiding Dani's eyes and staring at the polaroid. "The wrong kind of love," she said simply. "Can fuck you up. Follow you. Make you do some really stupid shit."

Across the years, she caught a glimpse of brown eyes, a grinning mouth with her name on the lips, and the flashing blue of police lights.

"And those two," she glanced from Dani to the photograph. "Believe me, that was the wrong kind of love."

"We've all been in the wrong kind of love for one reason or another," Dani said.

"Mm, but I saw how he twisted himself into her." Jamie's mouth hardened at the memories, and she missed the way Dani turned slowly towards her, memories of her own flashing briefly across her face. "Burrowed in deep." Dani had turned away by the time Jamie glanced at her, and she averted her own gaze from the au pair's face. "I dunno why so many people mix up love and possession. But guess what that means? He didn't just trap her. He trapped himself." She glared at the Peter Quint in the photo. "And I hope she haunts that fucker forever."

There was a moment of silence, in which Dani gazed at Jamie, and Jamie gazed at the photograph, hating the memory of Peter Quint, mourning the memory of Rebecca Jessel, trying to banish the memory of a body floating in the lake she saw every day.

"People do, don't they?" Dani said softly. "Mix up love and possession?"

Startled, Jamie met her eyes, the air instantly becoming heavier around her. She swallowed, and nodded.

"Yeah, they do," she said.

"I don't think that should be possible." Dani's voice was a whisper, but her words seemed so loud to Jamie, striking her between the ribs and making it hard to breathe. "I mean, they're opposites, really. Love and ownership."

She seemed so earnest, eyes wide and mouth set. For the first time, Jamie let herself look; didn't avert her eyes or turn away, find a reason to look anywhere but directly at Dani Clayton's face. She had feared it might be like looking into the sun too long, and that she would eventually be blinded. But instead-

Instead, she found Dani looking back.

"Yeah," she said, the word so quiet it was only for herself and Dani to hear.

The room narrowed to the couch, to just Dani and Jamie. Dani nodded slightly, something like relief flickering across her face.

"She comes here often, you know."

Jamie's head whipped around, hands gripping her mug hard when she saw Viola standing next to her, pale skin shining a sickly yellow in the light of the table lamp. Viola walked around the back of the couch, her hand trailing over the wooden frame, both Jamie and Dani's eyes following her.

"I'm not sure what it is, about this memory," Viola continued, coming to a stop at the end of the couch, looking down at Dani curiously, who stared back, brow furrowed. "It's not where she fell in love with you. Not even where her affection for you began. She already felt something for you here."

And Jamie knew that. Dani had told her, years from this moment, that her feelings had started earlier than this, when Jamie had consoled her during her panic attack. That she had felt that same familiarity Jamie had when they'd first laid eyes on each other.

But this moment, this conversation on the couch - something had happened here; something they had never spoken about, because they had never needed to. An understanding. More than that, really. Recognition. A deepening of the connection they had both felt in that first moment in the kitchen.

Ah, there you are.

"Viola," Dani started, voice strangely gentle, like she was speaking to a student, but Viola shook her head.

"I have listened to you have this conversation many times now," she said, frustration colouring her voice, as she sat in one of the chairs near Dani. "And I have yet to understand."

Dani and Jamie glanced at each other. Jamie straightened up, placing her mug on the table beside her, and cleared her throat.

"It's about," she paused, looking to Dani for support. "Rebecca and Peter - do you remember Peter?"

Viola shook her head. Jamie frowned.

"You killed him," she said drily.

Viola blinked, and for a moment, she almost looked ashamed. Then it was gone.

"I don't remember," she said quietly. "I don't remember much from this time."

"Right," Jamie said, unconvinced.

Dani reached for Jamie, sliding their fingers together and squeezing.

"It's not about Rebecca and Peter," Dani said softly, eyes on Jamie. "Not really."

"No, I suppose not," Jamie replied, ducking her head and looking at their joined hands.

"My ex - my - Eddie," Dani's breath hitched, and Jamie's thumb started rubbing circles on the back of her hand. "You've seen Eddie. In my memories."

Viola nodded. "You were too good for him," she said primly.

Dani smiled weakly, shaking her head. "No, that's not," she took a breath. "He loved me. But not - he loved the person he thought I was. And more than anything, he wanted me to stay that person." She closed her eyes. "It's like, those cases of butterflies you see in museums. He caught me, and he wanted to keep me, and to never let me change." She opened her eyes again, looking at Viola with a grim expression. "Do you understand that?"

Viola was quiet, brow furrowed. "You didn't love him back," she said finally.

"Not like that, anyway," Dani said, nodding. "Not the way he wanted me to love him."

Viola stared her, unblinking. "But you love her," she said, and her gaze shifted to Jamie. "You love her with everything you are. I felt it. Every day in your mind. I felt your love for her."

Dani smiled, and looked at Jamie. She raised their joined hands to her mouth, and kissed her knuckles.

"Yes," she breathed. "Of course I do. How could I not?"

Jamie smiled at her, though something was niggling at the back of her head.

Blue eyes, she thought distantly.

"I love my husband," Viola said. "And I love my daughter. And I would give anything for them to be with me. Anything. And yet." She stared at Jamie this time. "And yet, you wouldn't take her down, to join you. Even though she asked for it. Begged for it. Even though letting her go meant you would be without her."

"Jamie has a whole life to live still," Dani said evenly, hand squeezing Jamie's almost too hard. "I wouldn't - I couldn't - even if she wanted it -"

"I did," Jamie said quietly, drawing both Dani and Viola's attention to herself. "I would have happily drowned to be with you, you know that."

"I do," Dani said, a little helplessly. "And that's why I couldn't let you."

"I know," Jamie said, one side of her mouth quirking up in a sad half-smile.

"If I had the same chance," Viola said, voice brittle. "I would bring my family to be with me."

"Is that really what you'd want?" Jamie asked, leaning forward. "For your husband? For your daughter? To lay at the bottom of the lake forever? To slowly forget who she is?"

"Daughters should be with their mothers," Viola said firmly.

"Sometimes that's not how it works," Dani said, voice quiet.

"It should be," Viola insisted, eyes flashing dangerously. "It's one thing to let your wife go, but if you had a child you would understand. It's a mother's job to protect her child, to be there for her, to love her, and hold her close, and-"

"Mum?"

Viola fell silent, looking over Dani and Jamie's shoulders with a frown.

"Who-?" She asked, and then her eyes flicked to Jamie.

"Mum?"

The voice was familiar, and Jamie felt herself standing up before she could really think about it, something insistent pulling her towards the sound. Dani's hand slid out of her grasp as she made her way towards the hallway.

"Jamie," Dani said from behind her. "Jamie, what-?"

Jamie kept going, heart thudding in her chest, through the door, down the hall, and finally, stepped somewhere that wasn't Bly Manor, opened her mouth, and said,

[angrycowboys]

trust me (dean/cas)

15.09 coda - angst, hurt/comfort, first kiss, love confessions, hopeful ending

(ao3 link)

He's in his room when Cas knocks on his open door. He's not actively avoiding either of them, he just — needed some time alone. To think. About everything. Cas had seemed to sense that when they got back to the bunker. They'd just sat in silence at the kitchen table for a long time. He didn't try to engage him in any kind of conversation, but it was a comfortable silence, unlike the past few weeks and months when they could barely look at each other, when they'd felt miles apart even when they were standing in the same room. It's like he knew that his prayer had taken everything out of him, wrung him dry of words, of everything he's kept inside for so long, for his whole life, and had never been able to say out loud to anyone. Until it was like he couldn't hold it in anymore, like it was ripped out of him just from pure desperation and hopelessness. Leaning against a tree in Purgatory, barely able to hold his own body weight up, spilling his guts and his soul to Cas, even though he didn't know if he could hear him, if he was already dead, gone, but needing to say it, while he still could, before it was too late. Even if there was only a ghost of a chance.

He'd felt so helpless, calling his name, wandering around futilely in the vast, wild expanse of forest, thinking he'd never find him, or worse. There was a part of him that knew that if he couldn't find Cas before their time ran out, he wouldn't have had the strength to step through the portal alone. He would've just stayed there. Let the world end. Because what would be the point?

And then there was the pure relief of seeing him there and alive again. He almost didn't want to let him go. But he needed to know he'd heard him. But Cas had stopped him, that understanding look in his eyes, like he knew how hard that was for him. Like he was grateful but he didn't need him to say it again. And Dean had just felt something warm and bright flare up inside of him. Just for a moment but it knocked his entire world sideways. It wasn't anger for once. Or desperation or defiance or self-destruction or any of the other countless feelings he'd disguised for the real thing throughout his entire life. It was something he hadn't felt for a long, long time. Maybe not ever.

And then it was all offset again hours later — by Chuck, by the plan not working, by Sammy's vision of the future. And it's like everything he's done, to get Cas back, to keep them together, to fight this, was all for nothing. Because they're going to lose. They were always going to lose.

He's been slowly pacing the length of the room for an hour like a spectre, turning everything over in his head, a glass grasped in his hand that's barely touched his lips. He knows he can't dull this feeling anymore. Maybe he doesn't even want to try.

He sets it down now, looking up at Cas, as he crosses the threshold of the room, standing right in front of him.

"You okay?" Cas asks, his face worn and downcast. He looks how Dean feels. Purgatory gets inside your bones, they both know that, and missing their only shot at Chuck was a heavy blow to all of them.

Dean brushes off the question. Cas already knows he's not okay. None of them are okay. And there's no use in trying to hide anything anymore. "I should be asking you that. You're the one who had to fend off Leviathans by yourself and still managed to grab the flower."

Cas just tilts his head slightly in acknowledgment. "I'd probably feel better about that if it wasn't a complete waste."

"Hey, wasn't a complete waste. We know what Chuck's endgame is now. That's something." He knows he doesn't sound as confident as he's trying his hardest to.

Cas just gives him an encouraging look like he knows exactly what he's doing.

"You were right. We'll figure something else out. We always do." He doesn't know if Cas really believes it or if he's just trying to do exactly what Dean's trying to do, make them both feel better in impossible circumstances. It's what they always say, it's what they have to say, because otherwise they're just left with nothing.

Dean just nods at him absently for a few moments, not really looking at him, and then he just feels something break inside him just like it did back in Purgatory and his stoic expression completely falters again.

"Sam told me, uh, in the visions — Of the future or whatever. That you took the Mark. And then we had to bury you in the Ma'lak box…" He looks right up into Cas's eyes, his own already prickling with more unshed tears; it's like there are permanent cracks now in his armour, with no anger and blame left to seal them up. Everything's risen up to the surface inside of him and it's spilling free. Maybe it should make him feel weak, but it just makes him feel more human, more real. Chuck may be controlling everything else, but his pain and his fight and his relentless need to hold on to his family at all costs belong to him. They're his and his alone and nothing can take that away.

Cas just looks startled for a moment before his face settles again, into almost quiet resignation. And that just makes it even worse. Cas is always so damn willing to jump into the fire for them, for him, always willing to accept his fate, out of guilt or misplaced loyalty or — love, and he's always so fucking ungrateful.

"Dean —" Cas says in a low exhale. He steps closer to him, hand slightly outstretched tentatively in front of him, like he's unsure whether he should touch him or not.

"Cas, I can't — I can't lose you again," he says, voice wrecked, blinking away tears.

"Dean, it's gonna be okay —" He reaches out and just gently touches his fingers to Dean's forearm. Dean doesn't pull away but just squeezes his eyes shut, head hanging low like he physically can't keep it up anymore. They're so close that Dean can feel his warmth, his slow, steady breathing.

Cas gradually slides his hand down his arm and curls it around Dean's wrist, thumb resting against his pulse point. Dean just lifts his head slowly, shaking it disconsolately, his face twisting into a bitter grimace. "I almost lost you today. I've already lost you so many times. And too many of those times, it was my own damn fault. Because I was too fucking stupid."

"It's not your fault, Dean," Cas says quietly. "None of this is your fault."

"It's just — I don't know what's wrong with me. That I couldn't say that before — that I couldn't let myself accept it. That it takes losing everything for me to finally admit that I —" He cuts himself off with a broken sob.

Before Dean realises what he's doing, Cas raises his other hand to his cheek, lightly strokes his fingertips over his skin, wipes away some stray tears with his thumb. It's so unexpectedly tender that he lets out a small gasp and he can't help leaning into his touch, his eyes falling shut again, feeling so, so tired and lost. Cas's touch is his only salve, his only direction.

"Dean, it's okay. I understand," he tells him, voice barely more than a murmur. "You've lost so much in your life. More than anyone should ever have to bear. And it never ends. And the hits just keep coming. I know why you're angry. I know why it's so hard to admit how much you care. Because it makes losing everything so much worse."

"It hurts anyway," he grits out. "It hurts so fucking much, Cas. Every time. And I can't do anything about it — I can't stop it —"

Cas pulls him close into a crushing embrace now. Arms tight around his body, hands running over his hair, as he cradles his head against his shoulder. Dean clutches his fists into the back of his coat and he doesn't want to let go just like before. This time, with the clock not running down until the portal closes, maybe he might just not. Maybe they could just stay here until Chuck decides he's done and turns the lights out on the whole damn universe.

"It's okay, Dean," Cas says against his ear, soft and soothing, like a litany. "It's okay."

They have to pull apart eventually, Dean wiping away the remaining moisture from his eyes, Cas still just gazing at him, eyes sad and soft.

"Guess you're probably sick of me being a crybaby on you by now. Wouldn't blame you if you wanted to leave again," Dean teases with a laugh.

Cas just lets out the slightest chuckle before smiling at him. "You can't get rid of me that easily."

Dean just takes his hand and squeezes it for a second, looking at him intently, eyes unblinking. "Good," he says simply before dropping his hand.

Cas just grows serious and focused again, blue eyes blazing with an intense fire. "Dean, I promise you. We'll stop it. Together. We'll stop Chuck. We'll make our own future. Because that's what we do. That's what you taught me to do."

Dean just gives him an ironic smile. "It's funny. For a guy who's supposedly the paragon of free will, I've never been too good at just letting myself get what I want."

Cas just gives him a strange look, almost guarded for the first time, like he thinks he knows what that means but he doesn't trust himself to be sure.

"About what you said, in Purgatory, your prayer —" he starts evenly.

"You said you heard it," Dean says, meeting his gaze.

"Yeah. I heard all of it. And you forgive me," Cas says, like some small part of him is still doubting that.

"I'll always forgive you," Dean says honestly. "No matter what. You're my best friend. You've been there for me when everything else, the whole damn world, was falling apart. When I was at my worst. When I didn't have any hope. Letting you go was the biggest mistake I ever made. I was miserable without you. Ask Sam. I just didn't have anything else to hold on to, except being mad at you. I only blamed you because otherwise I could only blame myself. For Mom. For Jack. For all of it."

Cas lets out a breath before just looking at him, expression open and earnest now. "Dean, I know you've been struggling. With all of this. Since — Since Mary. And then Chuck — And I hated that you pushed me away. When all I wanted was to be here. With you. Helping you carry that burden. Sharing each other's grief."

"Wasn't your fault," Dean says dismissively. "I didn't want your help. I didn't think it was real. Didn't think any of this was real. I didn't trust it. Didn't trust you. Didn't trust that you coming into my life, saving me from Hell, wasn't just another sick game of Chuck's to fuck with me some more."

He can't blame Cas for not trusting him, not trusting his feelings, when it's been so, so hard for him to trust Cas. Since the beginning. To trust that he was there and that he really cared about him, really wanted him, that he was Dean's and he wasn't going to leave.

"Dean, I'm here. I'm real," Cas tells him, just like he told him months ago when he didn't want to hear it. "This is real. It's always been real."

Dean nods. "I know that now," he tells him firmly.

"Okay, that's good. That's good, Dean," Cas breathes, and it looks like a heavy load's been lifted off of him. "That's how we beat him. Holding on to ourselves. The things we believe in."

"Yeah, but that's not the only way to beat him," Dean says significantly. "If you can't let yourself feel what you really feel, have what you really want — Then there's no point in any of it. Fighting. Saving the world. Living."

"I want you to be happy, Dean. I want that more than anything," Cas says and he sounds like he means it so much that Dean's heart aches. Even after everything, after Dean was so fucking awful to him, he still only wants Dean to be safe and whole and at peace. Even if that means dying, probably. But Dean will never be any of those things without Cas. He knows that now. He should've made sure Cas knew that years and years ago. That there was no doubt or uncertainty, that Dean would always forgive him, would always want him back, would always be there to bring him home.

"You didn't hear all of it, you know. There was something else. Something I wanted to tell you when I was looking right at you. When I knew you could hear it. Something I never thought I would get the chance to do. Something I never thought I'd be brave enough to do. But if not now, then when, right?" Dean says, with just a hint of a smile.

Cas just stares at him with his mouth slightly parted, eyes wide, like he's barely breathing until Dean leans in and presses his lips to his. Careful and deliberate and full of purpose. It's like he's saying, Trust me. Trust me. Trust this. Don't ever leave me again. So that Cas will never again be confused about what he means to Dean. So that he'll always know what Dean feels for him, what he feels for Dean, that nothing can ever break this, that Dean will never let him go again. He should've done this a long time ago too.

It's like something else breaks in him now. But it's pure contentment and relief and surging, overwhelming hope. He didn't think he was capable of feeling this. He thought that this part of him would've been worn away by years and years of waging wars and crushing grief and darkness that felt insurmountable, by his entire life, but it's still there somehow. A small but powerful flame thriving deep down inside of him. And now it's ignited his entire being.

Cas sighs into the kiss, bringing his hands up to rest them on his face, and he thinks he can feel his grace touching him inside. It's like when he heals him but different, almost like an embrace, like two souls intertwining around each other. Fitting together just as they're supposed to. Like this is where they always belonged.

They kiss and kiss, Dean's arms around his waist and Cas's heart thundering in his chest right against his own and making tiny gasps against his mouth and his fingers tracing over his skin, tasting each other, new and familiar and undeniable. It's like getting out of Purgatory after being stuck there for years, finally being able to breathe fresh air, to cast off the filth and the guilt and the despair dragging his soul down into the dirt. If something like this, so pure and right and real, exists in this world, then maybe there's a chance for them yet. Against all the demons and darkness and monsters in every universe and God himself.

They pull apart after what feels like a lifetime, foreheads pressed together, Cas's hands still framing his face.

"I love you," Dean says against his lips. Because he has to this time. It comes out as easy and effortless as anything, as simple as breathing.

"I've always loved you, Dean Winchester," Cas tells him, his voice as constant and absolute as the foundations of the earth, as the dawning of all existence. "And I always will."

Dean leans in and kisses him one more time, soft and slow and lingering.

"That's how I know we're gonna win," Dean says, voice full and sure now. "Because we're not alone. Because this is stronger than anything. Even God."

[angelkurenai]

A supernatural marvel - Dean Winchester x Reader x Steve Rogers - Chapter 5

Title: A supernatural Marvel

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Set in season 13 and Post Avengers: Infinity War, No Infinity War spoilers

Word Count: 7,152

Summary: Imagine being transported in the Supernatural universe, with no memory of your life, where you become a hunter and fall in love with Dean. Only for a very important person from your past to come looking for you and change it all.

Read Chapter 1 here! l Read Chapter 2 here! l Read Chapter 3 here! l Read Part 4 here!

“Where did you get that?”

“I didn't-” you stopped yourself, taking notice of how his beautiful eyes were red-rimmed, feeling your heart do a painful drop inside your chest “It's not... an engagement ring, if that's what you're thinking. There's too much danger in this job, too much death, too much- This life is not made for it or any of it actually. A perfect house, a loving husband or wife, kids... a dog probably.” you shrugged, smiling bitterly as you played with the ring but missed the way he knowingly nodded his head and looked down at his beer “I- I can't remember exactly, to answer your question, who gave it to me per say. I always had this small box, ever since I could remember myself. It had a couple sketches, a journal, this ring... the bracelets.”

“Of course.” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes tiredly before taking another sip of his beer. What other verification did he even need to believe it was you, after all? Everything led to the same conclusion, including the ring.

He knew that ring, he remembered that ring. He had offered it to you while on one knee not many years ago, he could never forget as he had not forgotten you. How could one forget the love of his life?

You looked at him with a frown, chewing on your lower lip nervously. He was tense but also very tired and his posture reminded you so much of Dean's all those nights you'd spotted him awake in the map room that the words left your lips before you stop them “Nightmares?”

He lifted his head slower this time, his eyes meeting yours for only a split second before he gave a weak nod “Sometimes... I don't know what's worse. Staying up awake all night or going to sleep knowing you are going to relive your worst fear again and again.”

“I really don't have an answer to that.” you whispered, trying to ignore the way your heart rate sped up because of him talking more to you “I've had plenty of both, I guess we all get it sooner or later, and it sucks. Uhm usually, when Dean can't sleep I stay up with him and talk about things to get his mind off of it, sometimes it's about the dreams too because it helps. Others we take Baby for a drive to help him relax so maybe you- shit.” you clasped a hand over your mouth, your eyes going wide when you saw the way he clenched his fist and looked away “Shit, Steve I'm so- Damn it, what am I even saying? I'm here, looking like your dead girlfriend while you're trying to forget and I'm bringing up- Steve, I'm so sorry. I- I should have kept my mouth shut. I'm-”

“No” he cut you off in a hoarse and strained voice “No, it's fine. It's really not your fault, (Y/n). You only want to help, you're not doing anything on purpose. Besides, I- I don't want to forget her. I never would, she's-” it was so hard, almost physically painful, to not say you but he did “She's everything to me.” he looked down at his hands with a bitter smile “There are other things I wish I could forget though.” but before you could get to ask, he made a question “You two are close huh?”

Your lips were parted for a second, confusion written all over your face until you realized it “We're... friends.” it was totally unbelievable, and you both knew it “We're very good friends. He stood by my side more times than I could count, during my worst and best moments and everything in between so... I- I guess. The boys took me in when I had nobody, hunting is all I knew but they gave me a family again.”

“Yeah I see.” he nodded his head slowly but how could he believe your words when you barely believed them yourself? It was very obvious because your interactions with Dean spoke louder than words “And you? Why are you not asleep? ...Nightmares?”

You shook your head, bringing your knees to your chest and hugging them “I just couldn't stop thinking after everything that happened. I thought I'd rather take a walk instead of tossing around in bed. I didn't want to wake Dean up... and Sam and Jack of course.” you tried to add as fast as you possibly could, hoping and praying that he didn't notice your slip-up or how you and Dean were sharing a bed.

You only wished for at least a couple hours of sleep but couldn't get it. Despite the exhaustion, your mind was unable to stop thinking. And so just when you made sure Dean was fast asleep, you chose to leave the bed – as hard as it was to break free from his grasp, alright, more cute than anything – and just venture out in the parking lot. You needed the fresh air to clear your head and hopefully time would pass by faster than when staring at the ceiling of an old motel room. Why you were so eager for the morning to come and finally get to talk with Natasha about everything that happened, you couldn't explain and you almost didn't want to try to.

Just like you didn't want to try to explain the way your eyes lingered on the door to Steve's room as you passed by or the way your steps slowed down and stood in front of it for a good minute. Until you actually spotted him a few feet away.

“And then I saw you and thought...” you bit your lip, looking down “You'd probably want some company. Although I'm-I'm guessing I'm only bothering now.”

“You're not.” his reply came faster than you'd ever expect and your eyes jumped up to meet his “You really are not bothering me, I- I don't think I could take being alone a night like this.”

“Do you-” you bit your lower lip, fidgeting with the ring “Do you want to talk about it?” your words made his eyes widen softly so you hurried to add “If- if you feel like it. I mean, I totally understand that you don't... you really don't, of course. I'm annoying you with questions now.”

A small pause followed after your words, making the guilt eat you out on the inside before he eventually spoke “In my kind of job I had not always been able to sleep well, plenty of times. Nightmares were... a common thing.” he shrugged his eyes casted down “Staying awake at night as well. But it was always good to have someone there, a shoulder to lean on, a warm hug and a soft voice to remind you of reality or, even more, to tell me that the ones we saved were worth it and the ones we didn't...”

“You can't save everyone.” you whispered and he nodded his head with a clenched jaw.

“Yeah” he whispered hoarsely “She'd always say that.” he wasn't looking at you “She'd always try to see the light in all the darkness around us. She'd always help me pull through, we did pull through together. She was full of hope and love. So caring and gentle, despite the horror she'd seen in her life and she- she'd seen so much of it. Sometimes I didn't even know how she could do it but she- she was always so strong. She-” the lump in his throat prevented him from speaking, and the unshed tears were making his eyes burn.

“You miss her, don't you?” your voice was small, barely audible as you watched him run his fingers through his hair, your own eyes occasionally moving between him and the ring in your hand “You really loved her too, am I right? It must have been hard to go through this, I- I don't even know how you can live with it. You're... really strong, Steve, even if you don't know it.”

“I-” he bit his lower lip “I held her body when she...” he looked at you and trailed off, the weight on his chest make it impossible to breathe “I can't do this, I'm sorry.” he got up and your eyes widened.

“No, Steve.” you breathed out in a hurry, stumbling to get up on your feet to catch up with him “Please don't!” you took hold of his arm before you could stop yourself “I'm- I'm sorry if I pressed on too much. I'm sorry if I brought up things you didn't want to talk about, especially your girlfriend dying. I just- You need some air. You don't have to leave, Steve... I will.”

He looked down, his eyes as wide as yours, just as defeated and tired as you “I never wanted you to.”

His rough voice felt like a stab to your heart but you were also confused by his words “What?”

“I never wanted you to leave... but you did and it was beyond the us.” his eyes casted down “And... Fiance. Not girlfriend. We were engaged.”

Your hands fell limp on your sides when he moved back to his previous place, taking his beer and drinking the rest of it in one go. Your eyes were still wide, your heart was hammering inside your chest and you were struggling to breathe as your eyes fell down on the ring on your necklace. Of course.

“And you never let me brush it off until you made sure I had taken it off my chest, you were always very stubborn anyway.” he spoke mostly to himself and he realized that indeed saying you took some of the weight off his chest “Always ready to take the weight on your own shoulders if you could... Dean's really lucky after all.”

You slowly turned your head to look at him, your own eyes glistening with tears just like his “You gave it to me, didn't you?” your fingers played with the ring.

He looked up to meet your eyes, but he looked to be in so much pain despite his smile “You looked so beautiful in that white dress, it seemed like it was almost a sign. Every fear or doubt I had over proposing just... vanished. My only wish was to see you like that walking down the aisle. I guess I just didn't know how I'd never get to see you wear one ever again.”

“H-how-” your voice was raspy, not just because realization was setting down hard on you but also because the man in front of you was still suffering “How long?”

“One year.” he let out a heavy sigh “One year of endless nightmares and sleepless nights. One year of endless fights both to get back the stones but also and mostly to get my mind of reality. One year since the war after which we'd go home. One year... as of today.”

Your eyes widened, a tear rolling down your cheek when you realized what he meant, and it wasn't only because of the weight of realization crushing you down “So the demon- what he said about me a-and who I am... he was saying the truth, wasn't he?”

“Do you believe he was?” he only asked back, although his eyes spoke enough words to give you the verification you've been looking for ever since the fight took place. He couldn't be lying about something like this, not something that was clearly killing him little by little on the inside every day.

You didn't answer his question though for a moment though. You held his gaze ans took a few steps so that you were standing in front of him. Your close proximity feeling comfortable as you gazed into his eyes than you had felt the entire day away from him.

“I want to.” you whispered and no words had ever felt more true in your lips. A big weight was lifted off your shoulders as you admitted the truth you couldn't tell Dean.

You hesitated before reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck. You held onto his shoulders, still unsure, frozen in your place and with some distance between you until Steve more sure- or more like, more desperate wrapped his arms around you as well. He had been hesitant and more shocked but as much as he tried to fight it off he needed really bad to hold you again, and he did.With your body now pressed flush against his, you squeezed his shoulder and held onto him maybe just as desperately. You literally held your breath, placing your hand onthe back of his neck as you shyly ran your fingers through his hair. He too buried his face in the crook of your neck, holding onto you as if clinging to air for dear life.

“I want to, not just because my head needs to find an explanation to all of these dreams I've had but also...” you squeezed him, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck and taking a deep breath of his scent that made all those familiar yet strange feelings set in “Because my heart wants to believe it.”

You bit hard on your lower lip to keep the tears from flowing, not just because of the physical pain in your head but also emotional when you heard him. You heard a broken sob leave his lips at your words and gave him a strong squeeze. It was only seconds later that you felt his body shake and the warm tears on the skin of your shoulder. You didn't even question it, the man was crumbling in your hands and you were trying to hold his pieces together while he tried to hold yours together as well, even if you were trying your hardest not to show it.

And as that an image flashed through your eyes, a memory you now knew “You never let anyone see you cry.” you whispered “Not until my stubborn ass refused to leave your side after a nightmare. You were so adamant to look strong, to not drag me down, to not let me know of your fears just like with everyone else but... I just stayed, the whole night without a single question or word.”

“Until...” came a hoarse response as he cradled your body in his arms “I just let the tears out and admitted how scared I was of losing you because I loved you... because I love you.”

And his words, crystal clear and spoken right then and there, made your skip a beat.

~The Following Morning~

The first thing that registered as you were brought back from your peaceful, after a long time, sleep was the light shining right in your face. You turned to the other side, out of habit reaching out for Dean only to come up with nothing. A small huff and groan left your lips and, in disappointment, you buried your face deeper into the pillow.

With your eyes still closed, you let your mind drift to everything that happened the previous night. You could still feel your lips tingling from when you'd kissed his beard-covered cheek. It had come naturally to you, before you could even think about it, and you'd apologized a thousand times after that before nearly running away from him. He was conflicted, no wonder, but so were you. Yet, somehow, when you caught yourself crawling back to bed there was an odd sense of calmness in you despite what you had found out. Or maybe it was just because of what you had found out, who knows.

Taking in a deep breath you willed yourself to pull away from cuddling your pillow and open your eyes. Blinking several times, your vision adjusted to the light and you looked to Dean's side to see that it was indeed empty and glancing at the bathroom door you didn't hear any noise from there. You couldn't help the slight disappointment until-

“Rise and shine, sweetheart.” you heard a rough voice that always warmed your heart. You shifted until you spotted Dean on the small table in the room, typing in his computer. You got up in a sitting position and rubbed your eyes with the back of your hands, missing the way Dean got carried away gazing with a fond smile for just a second.

You smiled sleepily, murmuring “Well, aren't you cheerful this morning? You look good.”

He gave you a half smile that barely reached his eyes as he focused back on his computer “Mhm wouldn't say so but uh... thanks I guess? If I'm lucky enough to score a night with the cute receptionist, great!”

You rolled your eyes, feeling that familiar feeling of jealousy bubble inside you, getting up to stretch “Keep dreaming, for now we've got a case and that's all we're gonna be focusing on.” you approached him, your jealousy fading into guilt because you noticed he had already opened up anything he could to help research for the case “Also...” a sigh left your lips “Good morning.”

He seemed to pause for a second as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind, trying desperately not to melt under your touch as you played with the collar of his flannel, but ended up mumbling a gruff “G'Morning. Slept well?”

You tried to attribute his stiffness and monotone voice to lack of sleep, resting your chin on top of his head “Mhm it was only a couple hours but I might have really needed it after all.” you said, getting a hum from him and rubbed his chest warmly “It's a little too early for you, though, how come you're up? You always are extra cuddly at this time.” you giggled slightly, giving him a squeeze.

“Maybe I didn't feel like it today.” he mumbled, despite how every cell in his body was protesting.

“Really?” you frowned, the rejection hitting home harder than you expected “I mean, it's only the two of us now. I ain't gonna complain for sure, you know me.” you rested your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and breathing in his scent “I just want... my best friend to relax a bit, can't you?” he was so tense under your touch it was making you worry, especially after how he struggled to sleep the previous night.

A long moment of heavy silence set before he spoke in a gruff voice “Not at the moment.”

“Sure” you whispered, opening your eyes you looked around and spoke up again “Where's Sam and Jack?”

“Went out with Wilson for breakfast.” his voice held no emotion as he kept focused on the task.

“And... everybody else?” you asked more hesitantly, feeling his muscles flex under your hands before he just replied with a simple shrug “I was thinking...” you started again “I know we've got a handful on our plate but I- I guess we could get to talk with them or at least Nat about, you know, what happened. I mean, she said she wanted to clear things out as well and I- I have a feeling... she's not the only one.”

“You do huh?” he asked in a gruff voice, pausing mid-movement but not trying to look at you.

“I just think that... we should? Don't you?” you asked softly but got no response, only a clenched jaw “I mean, doesn't it trouble you at least a bit? I've barely gotten any sleep think about...” but you trailed off when your eyes fell on something that you really wished you had not seen. Your back straightened and you pulled your arms away from Dean.

“What's that?” a frown instantly found its way on your face when you spotted not one, not two but three bottles of beer empty by his side.

“What does it look like?” he raised an eyebrow, not even looking up to meet your eyes as you moved to the side to pick them up.

“Are you seriously gonna pull that shit on me now? Dean you're drinking at- at barely 11 in the morning and you mean to tell me that's ok? We've- we've talked about this, I thought you were trying to do some changes!” your voice rose and he instantly rolled his eyes like a little kid being scolded “And now you're rolling your eyes like some kid that's too stubborn to understand what's good for them and what's not. I- I seriously can't believe you. I understand that you can't cut it out, and I never asked that, but I thought you were trying more to watch out for yourself! This- Can't you even look at me?”

“(Y/n) it's too early for this, come on.” he grumbled, but clenched his jaw as if to keep himself from saying something worse.

“But it's not too early for drinking huh? For the love of, Dean. I'm only-” you sighed, your voice softening up “I'm just saying this because I care about you and you know it. I want you to be alright, nothing else matters more to me than you and your well-being. I just want you to see that-”

“Is that what you told him last night too?” he cut you off sharply, his eye finally meeting yours and the harshness made your heart drop “And before you ask- I saw you, (Y/n). Last night, when you couldn't sleep and went out for a walk, I wasn't sleeping.” he got up on his feet “You two are getting pretty cosy already, aren't you?”

Your heart dropped, a pang in your chest that hurt just as bad as the previous night with Steve “This has nothing to do with it.” your voice was weak as you didn't dare look him in the eyes “Steve and I were just... talking, that's all. I did go out for some air but I- I just saw him and I couldn't leave him alone like that. Dean he was broken, the nightmares have made it all worse, and he- he was mourning.”

“And you decided to just put the pieces of his poor and broken heart together with a warm hug and, of course, a kiss huh?” he crossed his arms over his chest, the ice-cold glare making you look away both in pain and guilt “I mean, what the hell (Y/n)? We barely know them to begin with, they could be lying for all we know! But no, they could even try to kill us if they wanted to and you'd still find yourself running into that asshat's arms just because he gives you a freaking kicked-puppy look! What's wrong with you?!” he nearly roared, making your eyes widen and you take a step back.

“Sure, I get it.” he sighed, his voice lowering mostly out of regret but also bitterness “You're a free woman. I'm not you father or big brother or even more... your boyfriend, I don't have the right to tell you who you should or should not sleep with. And I don't have the right to complain about it, you can be with any man you want to- apart from him! I seriously didn't take you for one to fall over a pair of pretty eyes and slightly damaged around the edges looks when you know it's all an act! That you'd be so- so easily manipulated. I thought you were more than, well, this.”

To say that his words cut you deeper than ever before would be an understatement. You clenched your jaw, although it was mostly to fight the tears, and spoke in a weak voice “I didn't kiss him on the lips, if that's what you're thinking. I only let him cry it out, let him mourn for the death of his significant other. And if you think that I could so easily do it then... I guess you don't really know me.” you wrapped your arms around yourself, shaking your head, missing the way his shoulder slumped “But I don't blame you. I'm realizing I barely know myself either and I- I just need answers, D.”

“So now you do huh?” his voice was gruff, his eyes hard but a hint of regret for the way he spoke up just because of his jealous getting the best of him “You believe what the demon said, don't you?”

“I did after I saw a broken man barely holding himself together or his tears back as he spoke... about losing the woman he loves, about holding her bleeding body in his arms and watching the life fade out of her. You of all people know how it's like to lose someone important, you-” you took in a shaky breath “You can't fake that, you just can't. He's really suffering a-and it's all worse and also better as he looks at me. So if there is the slightest chance this will all be worth it, that this... Iwill make it better, I want those answers.”

“Then-” he blinked, his hands falling by his sides in slight defeat but his eyes still cold as he remained distant “Let's get them.”

~*~

“Shouldn't we wait for the guys to return?” Natasha raised an eyebrow, her serious expression matching Dean's cold one as he had his arms crossed over his chest. You were trying your best to take your eyes away from the man standing by the window, how stiff his back looked, hands in his pockets and eyes not moving. You could see the reflection of his face and, as crazy as it sounded, you could swear he was looking at you through it. Or at least your heart hoped he did.

“We're done waiting. It's time for you to spill the truth.” he nearly growled, ignoring the look you gave him “And start by explaining how you recognized (Y/n), 'cause I'm really startin' to get pissed here.”

“You are skeptical, Dean.” Wanda spoke in a calmer voice, her eyes inspecting him as if she was reading him “You are worried and cautious, protective over the ones you care about. We understand. Having the life you did is not easy to handle. All the trauma and fighting and horror and-” her eyes got slightly wide and glossy, as if she saw something you couldn't, and she subtly shook her head “Death... surrounding you, every man crumbles. You're very strong to have gone through all this and still be able to keep fighting.” she blinked, looking away from him “But if we weren't sure about who (Y/n) really is, then we would have not insisted or bothered you more. I-” she looked at you, a sad smile on her lips “I saw it from the first moment, yesterday. The memories are all there, some are slipping through here and there that's how I know, but there seems to be a wall protecting the rest of them. I could-” she looked between you and Dean “Try to reach through to them if you'd want me to.”

“Wanda has...” Vision started speaking softly when he noticed the deep frown on Dean's face “Some extraoridanry powers, I am sure you must have not encountered before, Dean. Telekinesis and the ability to read minds, to put it as simple as possible, I'm sure you can believe that.”

“After what I've seen, I really do.” his voice was gruff “What I can't believe, though-” his eyes moved from Vision to Steve who was only staring outside the window with an emotionless expression “Is what that black-eyed asshole said while wearing your friend over there.”

“Why?” Natasha raised an eyebrow, her cold tone and stoic face not changing “Because it was a monster that said it? Well, then believe us when we say that everything he said was true. Unless, of course, you're not ready to believe us either.”

“I would need a reason to, wouldn't I?” he raised an eyebrow “We've got a life here. It's nowhere near normal sure, but this is what we do and it's our choice.” he looked at you, taking in an deep breath “Because we want this.” he added more softly with his eyes still on you before he looked back at them “And you come in waltzing into it and expect us to take it cool? Do you really think-”

“And she had a life before this one.” it was the voice of the only man who had not uttered a word all this time, making all eyes fall on him. He turned around to face you, jaw clenched and with the beard he had, it made him look even more intimidating. The fabric of his shirt was struggling against his arms and his chest was puffed out; much like Dean's who straightened his back and looked at him directly in the eyes. You held your breath, looking back and forth between the two of them almost fearing what you'd hear next.

“(Y/n) (Y/l/n).” Steve finally said after a long pause and a silent conversation between the two men, surprising you all by being the one to start giving answers “At least to friends and family. Wonder Woman for the rest of the world and mostly the ones she saved.” a heavy sigh left his lips “Princess of Themiscyra, lived and trained alongside the Amazons even if... you never were one yourself. Daughter of the Queen herself although not literally. My plane crashed on your island back in the days, it was during World War 2, and it was when I first met you. We didn't see each other again until I woke up in the future, around 2012, though. It was during the Avenger's assemble.”

“But if I'm not an Amazon-” you started reluctantly, glancing cautiously at Dean to see him already sulking at the use of second person instead of third “Which, shame by the way, cause I'm guessing that would have been badass, unlike the ones we have here... Then what would I be?”

“Something you're more familiar with.” Natasha looked at you with a small smirk “An archangel.”

A scoff instantly left Dean's lips at the same time a gasp escaped yours, your stomach tied in knots and your eyes widened as you looked amongst them for some sort of reaction or verification “A what?” you choked out, your ability to breathe and speak lessening as your heart drummed in your ears.

Dean laughed humorlessly and shook his head, shocked but doing his best at hiding it by being skeptical “Archangel? Wow, now you're really stepping up your game, tryin' to make us believe you more easily. Alright, fine, say that's the case. Then how did she find herself there huh?”

“She chose it.” Steve explain, eyes hard on Dean “Because she couldn't stand her family fighting anymore?Her brothers and sisters which I'm sure you know as angels.” he took a step closer to Dean “Because she wished her Father had not banished and locked her brother, despite him being the devil, in a cage for the rest of eternity?” and another “Because she wished her older brothers, Michael and Lucifer, weren't meant to fight in a war that could destroy half of the world” and another “Because she couldn't stand the fact that one of her first memories was fighting a war alongside her brothers and against her Father's sister? You know... The Darkness? You've met her yourself you said.” they were standing so close that you were holding your breath, ready to jump from your seat any given second.

“Dean” your voice was small but it did make him look at you. He held your gaze for a second, his eyes moving back and forth, before he too a deep breath and took a step back but most importantly bit back the snarky remark he was ready to say.

“All she wanted was peace.” Steve breathed out, taking a step back as well and resting his back on the wall, eyes cased down “So she chose one of the many realities she had seen her Father create, the only one she actually helped in creating.”

“C-create? H-how- if I was only an archangel?” you whispered, your heart feeling tight inside your chest.

“He wasn't supposed to have favorites, but you were just that. You were the strongest, your powers the most pure ones and far too big for an angel to manage. So vast... a stone was created to help you handle it. A stone you created with His help, a stone you're linked to... a stone of infinite power.” Vision brought a hand up, tapping the yellow stone on his forehead with one finger “Much like this.”

“The soul stone.” your breathed out, your eyes widening as Dean took a step forward in alert “A stone of infinite power. The- the demon spoke about something I created. That's it, isn't it?”

The nods you got made you and Dean share a look before he asked in a gruff voice “The man of letters...” he mumbled to himself, his frown getting deep before he asked “But if the stone and, let's say, your (Y/n)-”

“There is one (Y/n).” Natasha cut him off, voice firm “This one, whether you like it or not.”

He shifted his jaw, his fists clenching, not liking the sound of it mostly because he could feel himself believing it more and more and it was scaring him “How did they both end up back here again?”

“As a human, too.” you added in a soft voice, glancing at the green-eyed man to see him chewing on his lower lip “I mean, Dean's right. That just doesn't make sense, Natasha.”

“We don't know how per say, and we don't know if we can find out either. But maybe we could explain it, starting from how it all began.” her expression softened when she looked at you, like a sister would, before she looked back at Steve. When she didn't get a reaction and his eyes remained glued on the floor she sighed and took it upon herself to explain “There was an idea... To bring together a group of remarkable people. To see if they could become something more. So when we needed them, they could fight the battles that we never could. At least that's what Nick always said. He called it-”

“The Avengers initiative.” the words fell from your lips before you could control it. Your eyes widened and you clasped a hand over your mouth, looking at Dean whose eyebrows were raised and his lips had fallen apart. You dared sneak a glimpse at Steve to see his eyes were on you as well, full of hope.

“I'm- I'm sorry. I don't know where that came from.” you mumbled, your eyes casting down.

“I think we all do.” Natasha breathed out “But it's fine. Yes, that's what it was. And you were part of that initiative, one of the first recruits. One of the original seven: Wonder Woman, Iron Man, The Hulk, Thor, Black Widow, Hawkeye and... Captain America.” at her words your eyes shyly made their way to Steve “(Y/n) was part of this, hence the bracelets; they were part of your suit.”

“What?” Dean's voice was rough but more collected “Like a bunch of superheroes, like- like the Justice League or something?”

“You could say, yes. But the Avengers were real.” Wanda nodded “And sadly, so was the threat.”

“Sadly, every hero must face some great villain and we couldn't be an exception. For years we had been able to keep things under control, fighting people that were in it for the power. Together.” you nodded slowly at her words, because your throat felt too tight for you to speak “But the worst comes when you're at your lowest, I suppose. We were... divided at the time and we had to learn he hard way that the worst kind of monsters were still out there waiting for us, in space. I'm sure you remember just how fun fighting aliens is.” her words got a hum from him.

“His name is, or for better words was, Thanos. His goals was always one: whipe out half of life in the universe. By collecting all six of Infinity Stones he could do it with a snap of his fingers.” Vision explained “The Mind Stone. Soul Stone. Space. Time. Power. Reality. All of the Infinity Stones combined could give him the power to do anything he wanted and he almost succeeded.”

“We fought against him, risking our lives and the lives of the ones we love.” Wanda spoke in a hoarse voice, looking at Vision in a way you completely understood “A battle bigger than ever before. The war to end all wars and it took place in Wakanda. Despite our differences we were united once more for the greater good. He managed to get all of the stones, killing some of us in the process-” she choked on her words, Vision placing a hand on her shoulder “Until there was one left.”

“As the owner of the Soul Stone-” Natasha spoke up “You got hold of it before he could, but already having 5 stones in his hand made him the strongest being on the universe at the time. We couldn't defeat him, no matter how much we tried, and with our defeat slowly approaching you... made a decision to save us all.”

“D-Decision?” you whispered, suddenly not needing her to keep going because you understood real well what had happened. Your eyes jumped to look at Steve, your heart doing a painful drop when you took in his worn-out expression and posture.

His jaw was set before he just said in a gruff voice, as if correcting Natasha “To sacrifice yourself.” and his words earned a sharp intake from Dean this time “Using your archangel blade you killed yourself while baring the stone, in a special place on your suit. By... stabbing yourself with the blade-” well, his hoarse words felt like a stab to your own heart “You pierced right through the stone and ended it all once and for all. At least, so we thought.”

You fought against every cell in your body at the moment while keeping yourself from bursting in tears or gathering him in your arms and not letting him go. You realized it, you probably saved billions of lives but destroyed one for good: his.

“Then-” Dean's voice was low and deep, the gravity of the situation getting to him as his doubts started fading away much to his dismay “How the hell are we after it if it's in pieces?”

“The soul stone holds a special place amongst the Infinity Stones.” Vision explained “Nobody expected it, but the moment it was destroyed it caused a chain reaction beyond comprehension, both for the best and worst. The rest of the stones behaved strangely, they reacted as if they had a mind of their own. Their power increased too much for Thanos to withhold and there were plenty of results such as time reversing and me being brought back to life with the stone still on my forehead, reality bending and portals opening. Even in other realities, it was impossible to get them under control again.”

“We believed the stone was gone for good and that (Y/n) was really... dead.” Natasha's eyes were downcast “Steve heldher dying body, we saw her bleed out, we held a funeral, saw her get buried - with the pieces of the stone, because it was still hers - we'd visit her grave every chance we-”

“Alright, that's enough.” Dean nearly barked, but you could see it was no easier for him to hear the last few sentences. He dragged a hand down his face, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard but glossy. The mere idea was making him sick and it was obvious from how he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“We don't know how she's alive, perhaps the stone could not be destroyed after all or perhaps the stones' interaction did something to bring her back the way the aliens you fought were brought back. The soul stone must have created false memories to protect her too.” Wanda let a soft sigh “But we do know for sure it's her, there is no doubt left anymore.”

“Or perhaps I'm losing my freakin' mind here.” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes. He looked for a moment at Steve with a clenched jaw, although his eyes were significantly more soft than before, before he looked back at you once more “What do you think about this?”

“I don't-” the lump in your throat prevented you from speaking. You were barely holding your tears back but in that moment you couldn't face Dean, your heart just couldn't feel for him, not as much as it did for Steve. And so your eyes inevitably moved to him, taking notice of every little detail that just broke your heart even more.

“Did you see it?” you whispered and he lifted his head to meet your eyes “Did you see me stab mys-” your throat felt tight and you choked, when you saw his chest rise with a deep breath. Your question probably didn't seem all that relevant, especially as you ignored the one Dean made, but you just couldn't hold yourself back from asking. You needed to know the answer.

“Yes” came the rough reply and this time he held your gaze “Yes, I did.”

You nodded your head bitterly while all Dean did was look back and forth between the two of you with a frown. Until his eyebrows shot up and realization hit him harder than a truck. He clenched his jaw and looked away, drawing his lip between his teeth and biting down so hard he could draw blood. He shook his head, trying desperately to convince himself otherwise of what he suspected... or more like feared.

“Alright-” he nodded his head bitterly, his heart hammering painfully inside his chest when he realized you weren't going to answer but only gaze back at the Captain as if he was the only person in the room “When what do you want from her?” is protectiveness was impossible to hide, just like him being bothered.

Steve looked back at him as well, his body stiffening up as he raised an eyebrow in defence “Come again?”

Den's lips parted but before he could get to speak up his phone buzzed. With a huff he took it out and answered. However he didn't even get to say “Hello” because the person on the other side instantly started talking and it seemed to be nowhere near good when you saw Dean's eyes widen and his entire body stiffen up causing worry to etch in your features as well when you heard the rough word leave his lips.

“What?!”

~~~

Chapter 6

A/N: Forgive me for not adding tags this time, tumblr froze and I lost plenty of time so I didn’t have any to add them afterwards. I will do so, as soon as I can. Of course, tags are still open so if you wanna be added lemme know down below! Also, if you have any feedback and/or suggestions I would very much appreciate to know it! It’s everything that keeps me going, even if it’s a simple word it means the world to me!

[playing--koi]

This Life Will Have To Do

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: SMUT (Ages 18+), Unprotected Sex (WRAP IT!!), Mentions of Abuse

Summary: You’re a maiden being forced into marriage with a wealthy tradesman, Brock Rumlow, but a group of criminals crash your wedding, led by the long-lost love of your life.

A/N: I know that Alexander Pierce isn’t Brock’s father, but for the sake of this story, he is. Sorry ‘bout that inaccuracy!

Word Count: 3.7k

MASTERLIST

“Oh, please, Y/N, I’ve heard enough whining to last a lifetime. Now turn around and let me zip up your dress.” Your mother rolled her eyes yet again in response to your protests.

“Mother, you’re throwing away my entire life! How do you expect me to respond?” You exclaimed, trying to keep the tears at bay before you fully lost your composure.

“I’m hardly throwing away your life, sweetheart. Brock is a very wealthy man who can take care of you.” She gave up on waiting for you to turn around, finding it in her best interest to just walk around the large perimeter of your tulle skirt in order to reach your back.

“No, his money can take care of you while I sit at home with my head down, terrified of my own soon-to-be husband!” Your mother knew of all of the horrible things Brock said to you on a daily basis, constantly belittling you at every chance he got. It was unusual for him to become violent, but certainly not unheard of.

“Oh, stop being so dramatic. All you have to do is walk down an aisle, repeat after the priest, give Brock a little peck, and then you’re done!” She pulled both sides of the fabric together, barely running into any problems due to the tight corset you’d been wrestled into, lining up the zipper and pulling.

“No, I’m not done after that! You seem to forget the part where I’m tethered to that monster ‘til death do us part.” You said, turning around to face her, seeing her countenance was still stiff and void of emotion. “Mother, please don’t do this. I’m begging you.” Your voice was now weaker than ever; unshed tears painted your waterline, threatening to fall.

“You’re marrying Brock Rumlow and that’s final.” You swore you could see a semblance of sadness within her eyes, but it was gone as fast as it’d appeared. “And stop crying, you’ll ruin your makeup.” She walked over to the wooden desk in your room, plucking up her handkerchief and handing it to you wordlessly.

You saw that this argument wouldn’t get you anywhere, knowing that she was just following your father’s orders. You’d all lived a life of poverty since you could remember and you knew that the day Brock Rumlow took interest in you was the happiest day of your father’s life. He was promised a fortune for your hand, but you knew in your heart that he would’ve sold you for far less.

“Now, hurry up. We don’t want you to be late for your own wedding.” She began to walk over to the doorway of your bedroom. “I’ll let you have a minute.” She said, closing the door behind her.

You surveyed your childhood bedroom, staring at each crack in the wall, each dirty picture frame, each memory that you were now leaving behind for what you were being told was a greener pasture, but you knew the truth. Any bit of freedom you once had was now slipping through your fingertips; the somewhat innocent youth you were given now being snatched by a man who made your skin crawl.

You’d only known loss like this once before and you still ached with the aftershocks. The pain never dulled, it just numbed and every time you dreamt of his warm embrace, it was like ripping the stitches from your heart that you’d worked so hard to sew.

You couldn’t help but to feel like you were betraying the one whose love you held onto for as long as you could. The one who you fought for until the war had been lost, a white flag pitched as you watched guards pull his belligerent body away from you, announcing that he was to be hung for his crimes. You sobbed as he tried to desperately claw his way back to you, but every time you moved to help, he would scream at you to back away, not able to bear the thought of you getting hurt in the crossfire.

You still remembered the final words he uttered to you as he was being shackled and placed in the back of a wagon. “I will find my way back to you, my darling; whether it be in this life or the next.”

You breathed in a deep huff of air as you shook your head to rid your mind of that traumatic day. You lightly placed your hand over your heart as a sign of surrender. “Well, Buck, I guess the next life will just have to do.” Your eyes glassy as you left your old bedroom in sorrow.

~

You were sitting in one of the guest rooms of the Rumlow Manor, waiting patiently for one of the pre-picked bridesmaids to come gather you for the start of the ceremony. None of your real friends were actually allowed to join you since Brock deemed them “unfit to be a part of his wedding”, which caused you to wonder why you couldn’t be so lucky.

As you were sat on the bed, twiddling your thumbs, you heard two sharp knocks on the door before it was promptly opened. Your blood ran cold as you saw who the culprit was: Brock’s father, Alexander, who was somehow even worse than his son.

You quickly tried to swallow your fear, masking it with a polite smile. “Good afternoon, Mr. Rumlow.” You stood up, smoothing your dress skirt.

“It is, indeed, isn’t it?” He walked through the threshold and closed the door behind him, turning around to face you. “You must be feeling very lucky today, my dear.”

You had to physically bite your tongue to prevent the first thought that came to your head. “Yes, I’m very grateful, sir.”

“I’m so glad to hear it.” He said, walking further into the room. “Now that I hear you say that, I’m sure it’s just one big misunderstanding when my son tells me that you’ve been very reluctant throughout this whole process.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat at his subtle warning tone. “Yes, sir. I was just voicing some concerns before the wedding. Nothing to worry about.”

Noticing that he didn’t seem to stop and was still advancing on you, you started to back up towards the wall. “Oh, I don’t doubt it.” His voice held a sarcastic, sharp edge. Now that he was only a few feet away, he went from being a concern to being a downright horror, his body looming over yours as he gave you a wolfish smirk.

“Mr. Rumlow, you’re making me a bit uncomfortable. Could you please—” and before you could finish your sentence, he seized your wrist, his hand forming a vice grip, tightening by the second.

“Now you listen to me, dear. You’re going to marry my son and you’re going to be the most obedient wife this world has ever seen.” The bones of your wrist felt as if they were fracturing under the harsh pressure he was applying. “That pretty little face of yours is what got you out of poverty and that smart mouth can get you thrown right back in, now show a little gratitude or we won’t give your family jack shit. Do you understand me?”

“Yes sir.” Your voice trembled in response. “I understand.” He released your wrist and you massaged the skin with your opposite hand, trying to relieve the throbbing pain.

“You’re a beautiful bride, my dear.” He beamed as if nothing prior had even happened. “Now don’t forget to smile. It is the greatest day of your life.”

And with that, he was gone and you were left with an aching wrist and a broken spirit.

~

Standing outside of the chapel, you could hear the music start as the doors were opened. It felt as if endless eyes were on you, most of them unfamiliar, save for your parents and the members of Brock’s family that you had the displeasure of meeting. You could see brows furrowing in judgment and whispered commentary being shared as you walked down the aisle with your arm looped through your father’s.

You finally decided it was time to look at your husband-to-be who was acting flawlessly. He looked at you with a wide smile, but his eyes were still cold as ever. He didn’t love you, he loved to control you. And a sick part of him liked when you fought with him because he could remind you, yet again, that he would always win. You then chanced a look at Alexander, who was smirking in delight. This whole ceremony was already making you feel ill and no one had even uttered a word yet.

Once you reached the end of the aisle, your father unattached his arm from yours and sat down; a routine, rehearsed movement that impacted you far more than you’d expected. You could feel yourself getting choked up at the thought that you were now truly alone. This heinous creature was about to ruin your life and no one here was going to stop him.

“We are gathered here today to join Brock Rumlow and Y/N Y/L/N in holy matrimony.” Everyone sat down at the minister’s words, the benches making horrible creaking noises at the combined weight of everyone sitting at once.

“Now before we start the service, does anyone object to the union of this couple? If so, speak now or forever hold your peace.” The silence in the room was deafening. You begged and prayed to every god you’d ever learned of, every spiritual being you’d ever read about to please help you. “Nobody?” This statement from the minister surprised you as he seemed almost disheartened at the fact that no one had objected.

“Excuse me?” You heard Brock whisper to the man, clearly irritated.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir. It’s just—that was my friend’s cue, but apparently he MISSED IT.” The minister said, shouting out the last two words.

Before Brock even had time to respond, the doors to the chapel crashed open, a middle-aged man with a bow and arrow being revealed, quickly taking out every guard that eagerly charged at him. Screams were heard from all throughout the room, everyone crowding towards the exits.

The ‘minister’ looked down at you, smirking. “And you, honey, are coming with me.” The man grabbed your wrist lightly to pull you towards the back corner, out of harm’s way, when you let out a yelp at the contact. He quickly pulled his hand back, seeing that his gesture brought you pain and opted for your elbow instead. Once you two were safely out of the way, he surveyed the damage of your wrist that was already forming a bruise.

“When’d this happen?” He asked, looking at it from all different angles, acting as though the commotion throughout the room wasn’t even happening.

“About a half an hour ago.”

He looked at you with a saddened expression. “Your lovely husband-to-be?”

You smiled shyly at his sarcasm. “Not this time. His much lovelier father, actually.”

“Well, honey, the name’s Tony and we’re here to get you outta this hellhole.”

Just as he was finished speaking, one of the stained glass windows that stretched from floor to ceiling was shattered on the other side of the room, two gigantic blonde men rushing inside the new opening to take out the remaining guards and some of the stubborn gentlemen from the wedding audience who seemed to overestimate their combat abilities. “And that’s Thor, Steve, and bow and arrows over there? That’s Clint.”

Your eyes widened even further if that was possible. The scene in front of you had to have been some sort of divine intervention. No group of people would willingly risk their lives and their freedom to save a girl who holds no importance to them. “Not that I’m not entirely grateful, but why are you doing this?”

“We heard through the grapevine that this nightmare family found a new captive and one of us was very unhappy to hear your name mentioned.” You looked at him in confusion, wondering who in the world this person was.

“Who?”

Tony looked right behind you and smirked, pointing. “Him.”

You turned around swiftly and your heart might’ve stopped, but your brain was going a mile a minute, so you couldn’t even tell. It was him. Bucky Barnes. The love of your life who you’d yearned for since the moment you were separated.

He was tanner and more muscular with longer hair and tattered clothes, but he was still your Bucky. You’d notice those eyes anywhere. He was as beautiful as ever.

He hadn’t seen you yet, too concentrated on the task at hand to notice you ogling him from the sidelines. His strut was powerful, aggressive, and angry as his eyes practically slaughtered whoever was on the receiving end of his glare with pure fury. You looked to see that person was Brock.

You could feel your chest tighten with dread, your feet moving before you had time to think, but you were quickly restrained by Tony. “Nuh uh, sugar. He’ll have my head on a pike if you march yourself over there. Just trust him, he’s definitely toughened up a bit since you last saw him. Escaped a public hanging and 3 prisons before joining our band of brutes in search of his beloved.”

Tony’s explanation had your heart hurting for Bucky. To go through all of that alone before finding a group that he belonged with? That must’ve been terrible. You felt an overwhelming amount of guilt that you never searched for him, always just presuming him dead, but you were overjoyed that he never gave up on you.

You saw Bucky finally reach Brock, not hesitating to hit him with an uppercut, landing it square on the jaw. An audible crack could be heard all throughout the spacious room as Brock let out a loud scream of pain. This certainly didn’t deter him though; the man clearly knew how to take a punch.

Brock and Bucky were now in a full out brawl; jab after jab, some landing, some being blocked. It was just a blur of fists and grunts as both men tried their hardest to take the other out. They eventually tumbled to the floor and Bucky managed to pin Brock, landing punch after punch and you mentally squealed with excitement.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Alexander advancing on the two, holding up a dagger, ready to pierce Bucky’s heart. Before you had time to scream out an alert, a woman landed from the rafters in the ceiling, using a rope to assure a safe landing. And, as she landed, she knocked Alexander out using a combination of gravity and her foot.

A man came running in from outside, shouting, “All clear out there. The manor workers are all safe and the guards are taken care of.” His gigantic backpack would’ve probably been more difficult to carry while sprinting had he not been purely made of muscle.

Brock was finally passed out beneath Bucky and you could take a deep breath once you saw that all potential threats had been taken out in such a short amount of time. Talk about a successful ambush.

As soon as your ability to breathe returned, it was stolen when you made eye contact with Bucky Barnes for the first time in years. Tony released his grip on your elbow and you ran to him as fast as your legs could carry you. Without hesitation, he hoisted you into his arms and wrapped your legs around his waist. “God, I’m never letting you go again.” He whispered in your ear, sounding just as choked up as you knew yourself to be.

“You found me.” Your shock overwhelmed you as your voice cracked with emotion.

“I said I would, darling.”

You pulled your head back from its place nuzzled in his neck. “I thought I was gonna have to settle for the next life.”

He smiled at you like you were everything he’d ever wanted. “I think this one’ll just have to do.” And you laughed, really laughed, for the first time in ages.

~

“So you guys just kinda formed this group of criminals to help people where the law can’t?” You asked, your arms wrapped around Bucky’s middle as he handled the horse, your cheek resting against his back.

“We prefer the term vigilantes, but yeah, pretty much.” The woman, who you’d learned was named Natasha, responded.

“Where did you guys meet?”

“We kind of all just got picked up along the way. The first two were Natasha and Clint, then Tony, then me, then Bruce, then Thor, then Sam. And Bucky and I actually grew up together before circumstance pulled us apart, so, once we were reunited, I knew we had to have him.” Steve smiled at you. “But he was dead set on findin’ his girl, so he made us all promise to help him if he was gonna join. And here we are.”

“Here you are.” You whispered, just loud enough for Bucky to catch. Once he heard you, he looked over his shoulder at you and winked.

“Here I am.”

~

“We’re back!” You heard Bruce call from the front. You learned that he was their expert behind the scenes, not too keen on fighting, so he mainly navigated and stayed with the horses while the others duked it out.

The house was actually pretty large. You wondered how they could afford it with no pension, but you quickly put two and two together that, while they mostly did good for others, they were still criminals who were no strangers to stealing or raiding, but you thought it’d be best if you didn’t ask which one resulted in their impressive home.

Bucky got down from the horse, throwing the reins to an unsuspecting Clint before pulling you down and carrying you bridal-style towards the house. “I don’t wanna be disturbed for the next several days. And you might wanna keep your ears covered!”

~

“Holy shit, Bucky!” He’d been going down on you for a full half hour, showing no signs of stopping. You were already an orgasm deep and you were fast approaching another one.

“That’s it, baby, scream for me. God, I haven’t tasted your beautiful pussy in such a long time, I almost forgot how good it was.” He murmured, hot breath ghosting over your dripping cunt before diving back in, writing love stories with his tongue and making the lewdest noises you’d ever heard.

“Oh shit, that feels so good, please don’t stop.” He flicked his tongue over your clit, then swirled his tongue around your bundle of nerves before sucking it into his mouth. You whimpered, arching your back and grinding your heat onto his face.

He used both hands to clench your ass, pulling your bottom half off the bed and lifting your body to a new angle where he controlled all of your movements against his tongue. It felt positively magical and you couldn’t help but come undone a second time at the mercy of his skilled mouth.

Once your moans subsided and he licked you clean, he set you fully down on the bed once again. After a few moments of mindless fog, you began to come back to your senses, Bucky stroking your hair tenderly, smiling at you with such adoration.

You rolled over so you were straddling his naked body, now paying attention to his hard length that had been neglected until now. You pulled him in for a passionate kiss as you slowly sank down onto him, your walls stretching deliciously to accommodate him. He let out whimpers into your mouth at the feeling.

You lifted your hips and sunk back down again, forming a solid rhythm that he partially controlled with his right hand on your hip, too afraid to draw attention to his left one, the arm completely covered in burn marks from years of hardship. You took his left hand into your right one and lifted it up to your mouth, kissing his palm as you made eye contact with him. “I love every part of you and that will never change.”

He pulled his hand from your grip and moved it down to your hip in the same position as his other. “And I you, my love.”

He started to speed up your rhythm, also taking time to swivel your hips before he was fully thrusting into you, matching your movements perfectly. Fitting together the way you remember, the way you’d been longing to since he’d been taken.

“James, please don’t ever leave me again.” You whimpered out, the feeling so euphoric that you were so afraid it’d fall from your grasp just as it once had.

“Never, darling. Nothing could ever take me from you.” He whispered, gazing into your eyes, the beautiful cerulean holding so much passion. “Now let go for me.”

And you followed him, just as you always would, into a world of pure bliss where nothing else existed. No one else mattered. Just you, Bucky, and the heaven that you’d both found within each other; the heaven that was greatly deserved after the personal hells you’d both endured.

And, as you were both laying together that night, feeling more peaceful than you’d felt in ages, you realized that you no longer had to re-stitch your heart at the thought of falling asleep next to Bucky because now, it was a reality. You were no longer living a nightmare; you were free.

“Bucky, I will never be able to repay you for what you’ve done for me. Thank you.”

His fingertips trailed over the bandages that Bruce had applied to your wrist back at the Manor. “You never need to repay me, my love. Your joy will always be enough and, if anyone tries to crush it again, they won’t live to tell the tale.”

fin

A/N: So...my first AU!!!! Let me know how you guys liked it!! As usual, I’m very sorry if it’s heinous, but I’m just trying my best!! As always, feedback is seriously so appreciated (I’d even go as far as to say cherished) and I love hearing from you guys!!! Thank you so much for the love you’ve been showing my fics, I seriously wanna squeal at every note. I love you guys and hope you have a wonderful day!!! x

Tags: @retroasgardian @sanjariti @cassandras-musings @blazeshira @netflixa @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19

[thedogsled]

Thursday

“I know what you said. It isn’t my intention to make you angry, but this is not a gift I feel I can accept, knowing that I have once again – in full knowledge of my actions – betrayed your trust in me. Please know that I am doing this to keep you out of it. This thing with Kelly, with Lucifer’s child… It’s on me, Dean. I lost her when I lost you. Moreover, I was the one who let Lucifer out of the Cage. Ultimately this mess is all my fault, and if I do nothing else with my miserable life it must be to correct at least some of the many mistakes that I have made. I must prevent this child from being born, whatever the cost to me, and if I have the chance to end Lucifer I will take that as well. I must.“

To read more on A03 

Click here

or read more under the cut.

The bunker was a metaphor for his life.

 What with everything that had happened since, Dean had forgotten what state they’d find their home in when they returned: the beer bottles, hammers and dust; books everywhere, blood everywhere, dead people and broken tables.

 Then there was the giant fucking hole blown in one wall, like a gunshot in the back of the bunker’s skull, or a gaping chasm in a broken heart.

 When he looked at Sam, his brother looked shell-shocked too. They’d both forgotten. It wasn’t just Dean whose grip on reality had been knocked for six.

 After burning his best friend’s body and driving half a day across the country, Dean was exhausted, both emotionally and physically. He hadn’t even been able to sleep in the back seat the way he usually did after a hunt, the gentle lull of the Impala’s engine no anaesthesia against the gut-wrenching misery that tempered every breath with fresh pain.

 Living was too hard, and if this was the end result of Amara’s parting gift to him then fuck her very much.

 The bunker was a wreck. Even the idea of tidying it up filled him with despair. Sam caught something in his expression, maybe, because he said “I got this,” and didn’t complain when Dean went shuffling off in the direction of their rooms.

 He’d stood outside his own door for half a lifetime before he realized why he couldn’t go in.

 How could he sleep? How the fuck could he sleep when his mother was gone, when Cas was dead, when he’d let Sam convince him to burn the body because it was the right thing to do. How could he sleep? He knew he would, so completely bone tired now that he could barely keep upright, so how could he go into that room and put his head on his pillow and let this day be done? He couldn’t. His hands smelled of wet moss from collecting fallen branches, and his clothes stank overwhelmingly of bonfire smoke and meat and decay, but he couldn’t convince himself to take them off. If this day was done, then it was done. It was over. He’d have to let Cas go the way Sam insisted he should: because their mom was still alive, and someone had to go and save her.

 Dean locked his knees, swaying on the spot as misery came on the upswing, punching through him again. He’d fallen once already. Since then he’d stood beside the fire, stood when they faced Jack, stood strong against the impending threat of angels. He’d kept his eyes clear and dry while he gripped the wheel in a white knuckled death grip. It was coming back to him now, though, the agony swirling and commanding, choking him with all the unshed tears that he’d had to keep down for Jack’s sake, just to keep Junior on point.

 But here Dean was. Here he was afraid to go into his own room, afraid to let this day end, because that meant there’d be no taking it back. It had taken almost two days for him to fall asleep from exhaustion the first time he’d lost Sam; Dean remembered it as though it were yesterday. It hurt less because it was so long ago, but he knew that at the time it had felt like this. He’d done whatever he could to save Sam. But Cas? He’d let Cas burn. What kind of friend did that make him? What kind of brother?

 Rigidly, Dean tore himself back from the door. He couldn’t let it end like this. He had to do something, had to acknowledge his loss somehow, even if it was just with lots and lots of beer.

 His feet stopped again outside Castiel’s quarters. Dean let himself inside, closing the door quietly behind him. Unlike the rest of the bunker, Castiel’s room was untouched, had been that way since the last time he was here, when he’d tried to give Dean back that mix tape. He’d played him, taken the Colt from under his pillow, and with it – it felt – he had robbed him of all the safe, established things their relationship represented. After all the years that Dean had worked on forgiving him for his betrayals, Cas had come down from Heaven and – using all the skill Dean had taught him over the years – he’d taken him for a ride.

 --And not in a good way.

 In the centre of the bed was a manila envelope with the word “Dean” written on it.

 Dean didn’t notice the rest of the room. In fact, from the moment he noticed the envelope it all sort of zoned out, fuzzy around the edges. His heart sank.

 It took him so long to actually move to the bed that Dean was sure the day had passed into the next. He still stank, though. He was still tired, so it must still be Thursday after all.

 He sank down on the very edge of the bed, picked up the envelope in shaking fingers, and flinched as a black tape fell into his lap.

 It was that goddamned mix tape. Of course it was. The words stared up at him. The secret kisses in “TRA xx”, the desperate hope to convey his love without baring his heart and stating it out loud, as Cas had done when he lay there dying.

 At once Dean felt a sharp spike of rage, even if he knew perfectly well that it was misdirected. He’d said it was a fucking gift. He’d ordered him to keep it. Which part of that didn’t Cas get?

 But Cas was dead, he reminded himself. Cas was dead, and Dean couldn’t stand to be angry at him any more. Cas was dead, so what was the fucking point?

 There was a letter inside. He took it out and stared at it, unable to even so much as read past the first line for a minute or so. When he did, it near enough destroyed him, as if he wasn’t halfway there already.

  Dean,

 I know what you said. It isn’t my intention to make you angry, but this is not a gift I feel I can accept, knowing that I have once again – in full knowledge of my actions – betrayed your trust in me. Please know that I am doing this to keep you out of it. This thing with Kelly, with Lucifer’s child… It’s on me, Dean. I lost her when I lost you. Moreover, I was the one who let Lucifer out of the Cage. Ultimately this mess is all my fault, and if I do nothing else with my miserable life it must be to correct at least some of the many mistakes that I have made. I must prevent this child from being born, whatever the cost to me, and if I have the chance to end Lucifer I will take that as well. I must.

 I regret that it means I must do this to you. You have called me friend, family, even brother. I don’t deserve any of that, Dean. I have tried. I’m no hunter. I looked for you, when you were taken. For months I looked for you. I failed. It feels as though all I do any more is fail. All I ever do is disappoint you. I don’t blame you. I disappoint myself.

 I can’t even tell you how I feel about you.

 That’s why I can’t accept the tape. A mix tape is a romantic gesture. I’ve watched enough television to know that, and Metatron filled me in with more than enough details of fictional romances old and new. I have never told you what I feel about you in words that you understand. I tried to. I have tried. I failed at that, too. And I betrayed you. I don’t deserve your love, even the small gesture that this tape conveys. But most of all, Dean, I don’t believe given what I’ve had to do that you will be able to forgive me this time.

 I’m sorry. I am so sorry. Goodbye, Dean. I love you. I love only you.

 Yours always,

Castiel.

  There were headphones on the shelf behind the bed, and an old, well used tape player probably scavenged from the bunker’s storage. Dean drank beer and listened to the tape – Side A, Side B, Side A, Side B, over and over again - and he cried until his face hurt, until his head hurt, until his eyes itched and burned like raw coals in his skull. At some point he fell asleep in the clothes that smelled of death and fire; of burning angel and ruined hope.

 When he woke up, it wasn’t Thursday any more.