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aylacavebear · 18 hours ago

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Can't Fight This Feeling

Fighting against the thoughts and the emotions felt like fighting to try to breathe while underwater. No matter where you went or how many cases you dealt with, you felt that pull. When you were in bars, attempting to relax after a hunt, good or bad, you thought of him. Those emerald-green eyes were always in your mind, and so was the way he had looked at you 3 months ago before he had driven away from Bobby’s. Every time Take Me Home Tonight came on the radio, you let the memories of that night replay in your mind. You could always tell when he was near, though, as that ache eased up in your chest, but you chose to drive further away every time. I was just a one-night stand to him, you’d tell yourself.

Dean x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 6787

Warnings: Angst, Some Fluff, longing, Some intimacy but not a lot of details, lots of emotional stuff, Show-level violence, injuries.

----------------------------------------- It was mid-December now, and this little town was decorated for Christmas. Lights were strung around the lamp posts with garland and wreaths. All the shops had some sort of decoration, including those Christmas window stickers. There was even almost two inches of snow on the ground, but a plow had already cleared the streets.

You had taken care of the small pack of werewolves, three of them. The bruises on your ribs and face were already healing, as was the cut on your abdomen. Even after all your careful surveillance, there had been a fourth one that surprised you. That had been the one to give you the beating that was now slowly healing itself. Looking like you did, you knew you couldn’t just go to the diner for something to eat. People would have asked questions, especially when your bruises and wounds continued healing. So, you ordered pizza before taking a shower, scrubbing all the mud, blood, and gunk off your body and out of your hair.

You tried desperately not to think about that night, or the following day when he and his brother had showed up at Bobby’s. God, you tried not to think about any of it, but Dean’s eyes were always there in your mind, as was the way it felt in his arms. You growled under your breath as you flicked through the channels and took another bite of pizza.

Bobby had tried to get you to talk to Dean, but you had refused. Your excuse was lame, and you knew it. What hunter would want to have a monster as a soulmate? It was your only argument. Plus, Dean had no clue what you were at the time, and you were intent on keeping it that way. The only lucky thing, you hadn’t ended up pregnant from that night. Although, you did start having periods, and you hated them to no end.

With Touched, especially the type you were, you could only have a family with your soulmate. It was something you hadn’t really ever thought too much about. What would be the odds of you actually finding your soulmate? That, too now, was one more thing added to your endless thoughts of Dean and a life you figured you’d never have. There were times you thought your life was nothing more than an ironic comedy, and that had only gotten worse over the last three months.

Going to sleep that night was like all the other nights. Your thoughts always drifted to Dean as that ache in your chest brought your hand to your breastbone, rubbing it absentmindedly. Then, you’d roll onto your side, curl up with your pillow, and close your eyes. Your dreams were always of him in ways that both brought you peace and hurt in the morning.

—----------------------

It had been two months since he’d driven away that morning. There were days he felt like he couldn’t stand to be in his own skin, and it was driving him crazy. Sam instantly noticed how Dean had days where he was on edge more than usual. When that two-month mark hit and Dean snapped at him over just asking what he would rather have, a burger or pizza, Sam took matters into his own hands. It took Sam nearly two hours to get it all out of him, but after that, the two went to Bobby’s.

The entire drive, Dean was on edge, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. “This is stupid,” Dean grumbled halfway there already with as hard as his foot was on the accelerator.

“Bobby said he wouldn’t talk about it over the phone, but at least he might have some answers,” Sam sighed, only wanting to help at this point.

“She cursed me or something,” Dean mumbled, figuring you were a witch. This was the stupidest thought he had had thus far, but it was the only one that made any sense to him.

Sam glanced over at his brother, “We’ll figure this out.” He offered gently, not wanting to push Dean. The last two months had been hell at times, for both of them.

—--------

“You two are gonna wanna sit down for this,” Bobby sighed as he let them in.

That had Dean’s attention, but he went to the living room, barely able to keep from clenching and unclenching his hands, or rubbing them together, or shaking them like he was trying to shake water off. Bobby watched him as he poured him a glass of whiskey, which Dean downed in one go, handing the glass back. “She must be more than a state away, given your symptoms,” he mumbled, more to himself as he filled his own glass, then just handed Dean the bottle.

Sam sat in one of the chairs, looking between his brother and Bobby. None of this made sense to either of the brothers. “So, you said you could explain what was going on with Dean?” he asked, clasping his hands together in front of him.

With a sigh, Bobby leaned back in his seat. He’d only told one other person, well, two if you included her daughter, but you had needed other allies. “There are only two other people who know what I’m about to share with you, and no matter what, you have to keep it a secret,” he told the two, far sterner than they were prepared for.

However, at this point, he had both of their undivided attention. “Alright. We promise, Bobby,” Sam replied, while Dean nodded his head. “Yeah, promise,” he added quickly.

As Bobby proceeded to explain to the two of them what you were, they had the range of emotions and reactions you’d expect from a hunter while also utter curiosity. It filled in a lot for Dean from the night the two of you had spent together. There were the sounds you made, almost animalistic, but he’d been so caught up in you that he hadn’t thought twice that night about it. Then there had been the way you moved, having gotten out of his hold a couple of different times, and he had cuffed you to the bed. “Okay, but that doesn’t explain why I feel like I do,” Dean grumbled, taking another swig of the whiskey, desperately wanting the uncomfortable feelings to go away.

“Well, that’s the complicated part. See, Touched are special. She’s special. Each Touched has a soulmate. Right now, she’s the only Touched in existence. Believe me, I’ve looked,” Bobby began explaining, not quite sure how Dean was going to take this next part.

Dean’s heartbeat sped up when Bobby said the word soulmate. It was already a lot to process that you weren’t human but you also had a soulmate? He’d heard the term a couple of times in lore books. He just never thought much about it. Now, though, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, wishing he had paid more attention back then.

Bobby took a sip of his whiskey, choosing his next words carefully. “She knows who her soulmate is. She just wants him to choose her because he wants to, not because he’s uncomfortable being away from her.”

Sam looked at Dean, quickly putting the pieces together before he did, but he said nothing. He was now attempting to figure out how Dean was going to react when he finally figured it out, or Bobby told him bluntly. Sam kind of liked the idea of having you around. You seemed cool in many ways, and in others, you reminded him of Dean.

“So, why the hell does it feel like my chest hurts all the time? Or like my skin is uncomfortable? Or like I want to drive in the opposite direction I’m already going?” Dean asked, utterly frustrated at this point. He was still trying to keep his one hand from clenching and unclenching while the other kept a tight grip on the whiskey bottle.

“You really are an idjit,” Bobby almost chuckled as he sat forward in his chair. “It’s you, dumbass,” he added, quite bluntly. He had hoped you would find someone who wasn’t a hunter who would accept you for what you were, someone who wasn’t… Dean. He might have even been okay if it had been Sam. But Dean? Dean wasn’t exactly the relationship type.

All Dean could do was blink blankly at Bobby, too stunned to think straight, but at least it explained what he was going through. “You have a choice, though. You can either accept her or reject her. If you accept her as your soulmate, those things will mostly go away, but you’ll still feel that mild ache when you’re far apart. If you reject her, it will all go away, and you won’t feel any pull toward her at all,” Bobby added, but his tone was a warning, and Dean knew it. Bobby was careful to leave out specific details. The last thing he wanted was for Dean to choose you over guilt. Dean’s gaze fell to the whiskey bottle, his expression as solemn as his emotions. “What did she pick?” he asked quietly.

Bobby sighed, leaning back in his seat again, “She swore me to secrecy. She wants you to decide. She also said that Sam would know how to find her and that I’m not to give either of you her number.”

Dean’s head instantly snapped up. “But, that’s not fair,” he practically whined, and Bobby couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out. He sounded like a love-sick teenager.

“I’ll make this clear, as I’m only gonna say it once. Once you decide, don’t toy with her heart. I’ll shoot you myself. We clear?” Bobby told him, far sterner than either brother had heard the man speak before. “Understood,” Dean answered quickly, not sure if he should be afraid of Bobby hurting him or you if he fucked things up. Then, he looked over at Sam. “So, baby brother, how do you know how to find her?” he asked quite quizzically.

For a moment, Sam had to think about that one. It had been two months since they’d seen you, but once it hit him, he couldn’t stifle his laughter if he wanted to. “Her plate number,” he laughed out, “and her aliases.” “Let’s go then. You can look it up on the drive,” Dean told him, already getting up and moving to the front door. “Thanks, Bobby,” he added as he went outside.

The entire idea of soulmates was weird, scary as hell, and had his nerves on edge, but that was due to what else it had made him feel. Like no matter how self-deprecating he’d been, there really was someone for him in a way he thought he’d never have. Plus, after everything he learned about what you were, he really wanted to see if he could get you to purr—the thought of hearing that had sent a shiver through his body.

He didn’t know a lot about you, but he knew how you brought a peace to his soul when he held you close. Then there was the sex. God, the sex. He tried not to think about that very much, because every time he did, it felt like his skin was on fire, and you were the only thing that would douse it. Plus, whenever he had to shift in his seat, Sam always glanced at him.

They did what they could with the plate number. However, that only got them so far, as had your aliases. So, when neither of those helped, Dean went in the direction that made him feel better. It was all he had. Sam helped by trying to predict what city or town they were headed toward, but they would end up driving straight through it. Whether you realized it or not, at the time, you were taking them on a wild goose chase by complete accident.

—-----------------------------

“A month! It’s been an entire fucking month, and we still haven’t found her!” Dean growled as they headed towards another small town.

They had picked up a couple of cases and worked those on their trek to locate you. Dean had needed something to get out his frustrations on and hunting monsters was always a decent outlet for his anger. “Why don’t we stop in the next town, get a motel for the night? I need a real bed, please. We can take a breather and I’ll see what I can find online,” Sam pleaded from the passenger seat, giving Dean the best puppy eyes he could muster with as exhausted as he was.

Dean looked over at Sam and frowned, but his expression softened as his gaze returned to the road. “One night, maybe two, unless I start to feel worse,” he relented, knowing he needed a break as well. He just wouldn’t admit it.

It had taken a toll on the two of them, driving back and forth whenever Dean would feel that pull when they had nothing else to go on. There was still another hour before they hit the next town, but Dean was slowly starting to relax the closer they got. Even Sam noticed how the tension had begun easing from his shoulders.

“Maybe she’s close, or am I imagining you relaxing?” Sam asked.

He hadn’t even noticed that he was feeling more relaxed, then pressed a little harder on the gas pedal, “She’s in the next town.” Dean stated firmly, as several emotions washed over him: anxiety, anticipation, hope, fear. Neither paid much attention to the scenery, and Dean refused to turn on music as his thoughts raced again. He still hadn’t fully figured out what he was going to say to you. What could he say? He wanted you, in every way you’d give yourself to him while at the same time, he was afraid that if he did give into his feelings, he’d lose you to some monster. It was a frustrating circle of thoughts he couldn’t quite shut off.

“Do you know what you’re gonna say to her?” Sam asked gingerly from the passenger seat, five miles from the town limits.

Dean sighed with a frown, “No. What if she doesn’t want me?”

Sam chuckled a little. “Well, I’ve been thinking about that. I think that if she had chosen to reject you as her soulmate, you wouldn’t still be feeling like you are.” It took a few moments for that to fully sink into Dean’s head, and a smile found his lips. She didn’t reject me. His mood instantly perked up, and he smiled like a love-struck teenager again, making Sam nearly laugh. Dean also felt slightly like an idiot. Of course Bobby wouldn’t tell us everything and make this easy. The thought made him chuckle slightly.

The light of the early morning made the snow in the town sparkle like glitter. Most of the shops were still closed this early, and so far, no one else was on the road. The brothers didn’t pay much attention to the decorations as they looked for the motel first. “Should only be a couple more blocks,” Sam stated quietly, more to himself than to Dean, as he searched the parking lots for your car out the side window.

It was Dean smacking his shoulder with the back of his hand repeatedly that pulled Sam’s attention to him. “What?”

All Dean could do was point as he pulled into the parking lot of the motel, Sam’s eyes going to the object. A relieved smile found his expression as Dean’s heart raced. What the hell do I even say to her? Dean swallowed hard as he parked right next to your car, but he couldn’t bring himself to move or turn off the engine.

Sam furrowed his brow when Dean didn’t move, then looked at him. “Really? We’ve been trying to find her for a month and you’re just going to sit there?”

He couldn’t move, his emotions gripping at his chest and rooting his body in place. Without warning, Sam reached over and turned off the Impala, pocketing the keys. Then, he got out of the car, went around to the driver’s side, and opened the door.

“This is for your own good,” Sam told him bluntly before dragging Dean out of the car. “Now, which room is she in?” Dean pointed at room 9.

So, Sam dragged him over to the door, knocked on it, and then jogged down to the main office to get his own room this time, already having an idea of how things were going to go.

—------------------------

You’d woke just before the sun had breached the horizon but stayed bundled up under the blankets and stared at the ceiling. The dreams of him still playing through your mind. You wanted to smile with what had been in them. The sweet, tender moments the two of you had shared. It was waking up alone that kept the smile from finding your lips, having convinced yourself that you were nothing more than a one-night stand to him. You had to, for your own peace of mind, mostly. You didn’t notice how the ache in your chest was subsiding, or how your breathing was even for the first time in days. Then there was how relaxed your body felt.

Grumbling slightly at the need for caffeine, you climbed out of bed and made your way to the coffee pot. Another long, boring day. As you waited for the coffee to brew, you changed into day clothes, pulling on your flannel to keep the chill away. Even with the heater working fine, you still felt chilly, but you knew why. It was the need to feel his arms around you, just holding you close, and the moment your mind began toying with the thought, you pushed it away and focused on your coffee. The warmth slowly seeped into your hands from the cup while the sip you’d take began to warm your insides. You hummed contently as the sun rose further, trying to penetrate the curtains you had pulled shut the night before.

To help distract your mind further, you settled onto your bed, comfortable against the headboard as you flipped through the channels of the TV. It was still quite early, and even though there was nothing on worth watching, you felt completely relaxed in that moment. Somehow, you managed to end up completely distracted by what was on the TV.

What you weren’t prepared for was the knock on your door, your head tilting much like a curious but cautious cat. Slowly, you slipped off the bed, setting your cup of coffee down on the nightstand, and then made your way to the door. You felt that pull again, just as you reached for the doorknob, your breath hitching in your chest.

You took a slow, deep breath, letting it out just as slowly while trying to calm your racing heart. Then, you gingerly pulled the door open. Seeing him standing there sent all sorts of emotions through you: hope, fear, anticipation, anxiety, but your lips parted slightly when your eyes met his. At that moment, time stopped for both of you as Can’t Fight This Feeling by Reo Speedwagon began playing on the television in the background.

Neither of you could seem to find words or move as the song played, your eyes locked with each other. He wanted to pull you against him, feel your body against his, but at the same time, he was hesitant. The same emotions that coursed through him were mirrored in your eyes, but it was the vulnerability that caught him completely off guard.

You had been so confident that night and even the following day at Bobby’s. So, not seeing it now and seeing the vulnerability only made him want to protect you more. The moment the chorus of the song began dancing off the walls of your motel room, his lips were on yours, having closed the distance between the two of you.

Dean couldn’t hold back any longer. That vulnerability in your eyes had shoved aside any doubt that had been in his mind, overriding his fear and tugging at his heart. I promise, I’ll never leave you, and I’ll protect you with my life. He couldn’t speak the words that had gone through his head, but then again, Dean was never good with words.

You closed your eyes, resting your hands on his chest as your lips moved with his. It was tender, slow, and far more intimate than that night three months ago. When his hand cupped your cheek, you leaned into his touch, his other hand made its way to your waist, then around your back, pulling you closer.

Sam stopped short on his walk toward the room he’d gotten, a relieved smile finding his face. Thank God. His hope was that things would go well between the two of you, and so far, that’s how it was looking. Quietly, he grabbed his bag from the Impala, then went to his room, finally feeling like he could relax.

Dean teased your bottom lip with his tongue, and the moment your lips parted, his tongue met yours. There was no desperation in the way you kissed each other. It went far deeper than the physical need for each other. It was the need to share with each other what you felt, what you wanted, and what you were both hoping for.

When he finally pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, both of you were breathing a little heavier. “I’ll always choose you,” he whispered, placing a lingering kiss on your forehead.

You closed your eyes again, releasing a shaky breath as a tear slipped down your cheek. Dean gently brushed it away with his thumb. Bobby had called you after he’d spoken to the brothers, sharing with you what had been said. You had honestly thought Dean would have rejected you, due to what you were.

“It doesn’t bother you… that I’m not human?” you whispered, still worried about that part.

It was his chuckle that pulled your attention, your eyes opening as you tilted your head, looking at him much like a curious cat. “Sweetheart, I want to find out what makes you purr,” he replied in that honeyed tone, the words like silk as they left his lips. It sent both an exhilarating shiver through your body and made your heart flutter simultaneously. He watched as a blush crept into your cheeks, then slowly began walking you backward into your motel room, gently kicking the door closed behind him. “We don’t have to do anything. I just want to hold you, if that’s okay,” he whispered, his tone softer now, almost… loving.

You bit your bottom lip as you looked into those emerald-green eyes of his. The way he looked at you made your breath hitch in your chest. It wasn’t lust blown like that night. “Then get comfy, and we can cuddle,” you replied softly, leaning up and placing a tender kiss on the tip of his nose.

Sure, the two of you needed to talk, but there was something else the two of you needed far more at the moment. Dean kicked off his shoes, then slipped off his jacket, draping it over a nearby chair. He watched as you climbed onto the bed, his heart still racing, but it was your shy smile when you looked up at him that made him realize exactly what he wanted. With a giddy grin, he climbed onto the bed beside you and held his arms open.

It wasn’t what he wanted to do. He wanted to just wrap his arms around you and pull you close, but he could see the uncertainty in your eyes, so he’d go at your pace. Hesitantly, you scooted a little closer, then gingerly snuggled up against him. The warmth of his body, the beating of his heart, and then his arms around you, holding you close, made you purr. This time, you didn’t stop yourself. The sound was soft, the vibrations gentle, and Dean let out a contented sigh.

“Stay with me?” he asked quietly, not completely sure how to ask you to be his, to join him and his brother on the road. You fit perfectly against him, and he never wanted to let you go again.

You could hear his emotions in his words, somehow knowing he meant more than just right now, or for the night. A smile found your lips as your hand drew incoherent patterns on his chest over his shirt. “I’ll need to take my car back to Bobby’s first,” you replied softly and heard Dean’s heart speed up. There was a lot you both wanted to say, but for a while, neither of you spoke, just taking the time to relish the moment neither of you thought would come. The vibrations of you purring gently massaged Dean’s muscles, and you felt him relax further.

“What else makes you purr?” he asked softly as he ran his hand through your hair.

For a moment, you thought about his question, as it wasn’t something you had a quick answer for. “Lots of different things. It mostly has to do with how I feel. Mostly, I purr when I’m happy, relaxed, feel safe, or I just feel good. But sometimes, I purr when I’m hurt or sad. It’s like self-soothing when that happens,” you explained, a little quietly due to feeling shy on the topic.

He didn’t pull away. Instead, he held you a little closer as he kissed the top of your head. “Is this a happy purr?” he asked, almost worried it wasn’t.

Even if he couldn’t see your face, you smiled a little. “Yeah, this is a happy purr,” you replied before nuzzling your head a little against his chest, enjoying how his scent comforted you.

The two of you stayed like that for what felt like hours, the discomfort you both had felt over the last three months completely draining from both of you. Dean nearly fell asleep like that. Between you snuggled against him and the vibrations of your purring, well, it was something he never wanted to go without again.

It was the grumbling of both your stomachs that disrupted the moment, making the two of you chuckle. “Will you have breakfast with me?” Dean asked, nervous you’d say no. He almost felt like he was asking his high school crush on a date as the butterflies danced in his stomach.

You shifted a little so you could look up at him. The look in his eyes parted your lips. No one had looked at you like he was, and you knew you’d never get tired of seeing the love in his eyes. Before you could answer him, his lips found yours in another tender kiss, his hand cupping your cheek.

As he pulled you just that much closer, you smiled against his lips. “Thought you wanted me to have breakfast with you?” you giggled without pulling away, his lips still moving against yours as you tried to speak.

“Yeah,” he began responding, then another kiss. “But,” another kiss, “It can wait,” another kiss as his tongue slipped past your lips and began dancing with yours. Your free hand made its way into his hair, running your fingers through it and gently letting your nails scrape against his scalp. He groaned into your mouth, then pulled you to straddle his lap. This wasn’t like that first night. This was different. You let his hands trace your sides, his thumbs brushing over the sides of your breasts through your shirt. Now you were wishing you hadn’t changed into day clothes.

But he didn’t push anything. Not even when his hands rested on your hips. He just held you there, occasionally letting his hands move to your back to pull you a little closer. The way he kissed you was different, too. It was so many emotions all wrapped up together.

When he did finally pull away, he brought his hand up to the back of your head, guiding it gently to rest on his shoulder. “I know it’s probably crazy, but…” he trailed off, not sure he could say what he really wanted to. “...will you be mine?”

You felt the tears burn your eyes at his request, letting out a shaky breath as he held you close. “I’ll always be yours, Dean,” you whispered.

—------------------------------------- Five Months Later…

Was it all sunshine and rainbows? No, but it wasn’t all horrible, either. You and Sam had become best friends, quickly. He was the bother you always wanted and never had, while you were the sister he never had but now couldn’t imagine his life without. The two of you would nerd out over lore, movies, and books like Harry Potter. He had his bad habits, but so did you, and you both lovingly picked on each other about them.

Things with Dean were amazing off the get-go and for the first couple of months. The man couldn’t keep his hands off you. Then again, you couldn’t keep your hands off him, either. It seemed like there wasn’t a place he wouldn’t have sex. Most of the places you were totally okay with, like the back seat of Baby, or the front seat, on the hood, every motel room, including if the two of you had to share one with Sam due to the motel not having enough rooms. It was the other places like public bathrooms, alleys, or being parked in a busy parking lot where you were a little iffy about.

It wasn’t that you were shy, far from it. It was the sounds you made that were far more cat like that worried you. Dean seemed to understand, but when you were stern about saying no, he got distant for the rest of the day. The two of you wouldn’t have sex that night, and he didn’t initiate cuddling when you two would crawl in bed.

Oddly enough, that wasn’t even the worst part. When the brothers had seen how you were on a hunt, they were both intrigued and a little scared. You hunted differently due to what you were. You were the predator, like a cat, the monster your prey. It took a few hunts and several talks with them, but they eventually got past the fear. They couldn’t help it, you were scary when you hunted.

It was the hunt last week that had seemed to drive a wedge between you and Dean—a nest of Vampires. You hated vampires much like Dean hated witches. All of you had done the legwork, surveillance, and counted the number of vamps in the nest: 8 total. Unfortunately, there were two more that none of you were aware of, and you were the one who ended up taking the beating.

You had a good reason to break from the plan, but Dean hadn’t wanted to hear any of it afterward. It wasn’t anything Dean said. It was the way he looked at you and kept his distance that hurt the most. Sam could only watch in silence, looking between the two of you as Dean began speaking while you were getting yourself cleaned up.

“That was stupid and reckless,” Dean stated, almost coldly from where he stood between the two motel beds, just watching you.

He could see the bruises on your exposed skin, his jaw clenching as he crossed his arms. Watching you get thrown across that barn and not get up right away nearly killed him, even if you had saved Sam’s life, literally.

When you didn’t respond, he took a breath to try to calm his emotions but didn’t move. “We had a plan. You can’t even follow directions, and now you’re hurt.” He knew it wasn’t coming out the way he wanted to say it, but he couldn’t seem to say what he really wanted to. I can’t lose you.

“Dean, maybe-” Sam began, but Dean just held up his hand, silencing his brother as he stared at you in the bathroom. It was similar to when you’d been beaten by that werewolf, just without the gash on your abdomen. All your muscles were sore, and you had hay in your hair, which was annoying, but that was the least of your worries at the moment. The way Dean was treating you hit something deep inside and brought a pain you had never felt before, and you just wanted it to go away.

You took several slow, deep breaths as you gripped the sink, then looked in the mirror at your reflection: a split lip and a black eye. You slipped your flannel on, buttoning the first four buttons before you turned around to even look at Dean.

He looked pissed. Even after spending five months with the two of them, there was still so much you didn’t know about him, and barely scratched the surface on the little things. You saw how his jaw clenched just a little tighter, the coldness and anger in his eyes, and how he held himself, completely closed off. At least, that was what it looked like to you.

You debated fighting with him, as that was what it seemed like he wanted to do: fight. He’d taken issue when you had gotten hurt on other hunts, but this was by far the worst you’d gotten hurt since you had joined up with them. “I’m not doing this tonight, Dean,” you told him flatly, then left the motel room before he could stop you.

Unable to go to a bar, you went to the gas station, bought a bottle of whiskey, then climbed in the back seat of the Impala and began drinking to make the pain stop. Pain that had nothing to do with your injuries, and it had only gotten worse when he didn’t even go looking for you. You slept in the back seat that night, bottle empty and on the floorboard. You didn’t even wake up until sometime after they had started driving the following morning.

It’s been a week since that happened, and Dean has barely come near you, so you kept your distance from him. Sometimes, you wondered if Dean felt that same aching, twisting pain that started deep in the chest, feeling as though it would take you down faster than any monster could. You always pushed the thought away, especially since he had started sleeping with his back to you.

Dean didn’t know what to do, lost in his thoughts as he tried to sleep. He had blamed himself for you getting hurt like you had, just like he did when Sam would get hurt. He could also see that you were hurting in a different way than any physical injury, and he blamed himself for that one, too. You were so close to him; only six inches separated the two of you on that motel bed between your backs, but he couldn’t bring himself to roll over and hold you. It felt like someone had stabbed him in the chest, twisting and turning the knife every time he saw the pain and hurt in your eyes. All he had wanted to do was apologize and hold you close, beg for your forgiveness, but part of him felt like you’d be better off without him in your life. “Would you be happier if I left?” you finally broke the silence, knowing he was awake. Your voice was almost quieter than a whisper, and he wasn’t sure if he had imagined your question.

“Do you want to leave?” he asked, his voice gruffer than he meant it to be, and it wasn’t what he had truly wanted to say.

You clenched your jaw as you gripped your chest, holding your breath for a few moments as the pain coursed through you, rejection. It took you several minutes to even out your breathing before you could respond while also trying to keep the tears from falling. “That doesn’t answer my question,” you whispered, not trusting your voice.

Dean threw the blankets off himself and got out of bed, then grabbed a beer off the counter. He took a long swig of it, trying desperately to get his emotions under control. The one thing he couldn’t do, was look over at you. He knew you had curled in on yourself, lying as still as you could as close to the edge of the bed without slipping off it.

You bit your bottom lip, turning your head slightly into the pillow as the tears slipped out the moment he’d gotten out of bed. At least he wouldn’t feel the bed move due to my sobs. Sobs that the pillow muffled. The longer the silence stretched, the worse you felt.

“I can’t lose you,” he finally admitted quietly, his hands on the counter, the beer between them.

Your head snapped up as your gaze quickly landed on him. He looked almost… defeated? Without having to even think, you wiped away your tears, got out of bed, and went over to him, holding him from behind. You wrapped your arms around his stomach, lying your head against his back. He couldn’t move as he fought back tears. Even with how he had treated you, you were comforting him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as a tear slipped down his cheek. “I don’t know how to do this.”

You loosened your hold on him, slipping under his arm so that you were between him and the counter, and then you held him close again. “I’m not mad at you, Dean,” you began quietly, softly. “I can’t lose you or Sam. I know that you would give your life for either of us. I need you to know that I would do the same. Instead of pushing me away when I get hurt like I did, maybe try just being there for me, reminding me without words that even though you’re upset and scared, that you still care for me, please,” you told him, your voice no more than a whisper with your plea.

Dean slowly brought his hands to your back, then held you close as he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The feeling of you in his arms again made everything melt away as he tightened his arms around you just a little more. “I’ll try,” he whispered, attempting to swallow the lump of emotion in his throat.

“Let me hold you tonight?” you asked in a soft whisper.

He took a shaky breath, then pulled away, only enough to lead the two of you back to bed. You climbed in first, facing his side, the pain you’d felt was slowly going away as you watched him lie down and face away from you. When he was comfortable, you scooted close, pressing your body against his back, then pulled the blankets over both of you. You nuzzled your head against the middle of his shoulder blades after leaving a tender, lingering kiss on his shoulder. The hand you had used to pull the blankets up now moved down his arm, a soothing gesture before you found his elbow. Instead of resting your hand on his hip like you usually would, you let your hand find his before intertwining your fingers with his.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered his apology again, feeling like the worst person on the planet with how he had treated you.

Then he felt the vibrations of you purring against him, soothing the tension in his muscles. “Dean, I chose you. I’ll always choose you. It doesn’t matter if you’re mad, upset, scared, or feeling guilty. I’ll still choose you, even if you don’t know how to let me in.” you whispered softly, still purring quietly. “I forgive you.”

Dean couldn’t stop the couple of tears that escaped or the shaky breath he tried to take. He couldn’t bring himself to say a word, knowing he’d break down completely if he had. In that moment, when you forgave him, he made a decision. He was going to really try to talk to you about what was bothering him. Letting someone in was something he didn’t do, but you were different. You were his other half, his soulmate, and he was yours. He wanted to let you in. He just wasn’t sure how, and he’d been going through far more than he had let on in the last five months.

----------------------------------------- Hard to Say I'm Sorry - coming soon

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