#they have attempted to guilt me multiple times by using an honest mistake i apologized for

[pantton-sandacers]

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[thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters]

Request: “#5 with Dean + privately discussed trope.” by @dragonheartstring360

Prompt: “If there ever was a right time to tell you, I know this is it.”

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: Canon inconsistencies (just go with it, thanks), mentions of death, mentions of a car crash, angst, fluff

A/N: This one turned out a bit longer than intended. I hope I did the request justice, especially since it was asked for months ago. My apologies for the wait. Enjoy (:

Beta: @bookshido and @slytherkins

JJ’s Rockin’ 100 - RULES || MASTERLIST || ASK BOX

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The knock on your door pulled you out of your half-slumber. You were so tired of being tired. You also knew that probably wasn't going to go away until you were allowed to stop taking your medication. Doctor's orders.

"Come in," you croaked, quickly clearing your throat with a frown. Your eyes took in the sight of Dean entering your bedroom, a tray in his hands with some pretty good smelling food on top. He tried to smile at you but you saw the worry in his eyes. It had been there ever since you woke up in the hospital a little while ago.

"Any news?" you asked before he could start talking about something unimportant again. Dean had been trying to keep you distracted from what had happened - what was still happening. You could tell he was afraid you would feel guilty for not helping out. And he was right; you felt incredibly guilty.

Ever since Cas died and Mary and Jack were pulled into an alternate universe with the devil himself, Sam had been working hard to find a way to get them back. Dean helped where he could, though he mostly remained at your bedside. Which was where you had to stay for a while; in bed. More doctor's orders.

"Breakfast first," Dean said sternly as he helped you sit up. He made sure you were comfortable, propping a pillow up between your back and the bed's headboard. "Other stuff later."

Stuff. This wasn't just one of their normal setbacks. Part of their family was gone. And they had no idea how to get them back. Did he just not care?

But you knew that wasn't fair. Dean was worried just as much as you were, probably even more. He had even more on his mind. You.

It made you feel even worse. If you had just been more careful, if you hadn't rushed to where the others were so recklessly, you would have actually made it there and maybe you could have helped. Instead, you crashed the car and got taken to the nearest hospital. By the time you woke up in the sterile white room, Dean was at your bedside with a heap of bad news to fill you in on.

He didn't tell you right away, though. First he tried to tell you something which was even worse. He tried apologizing. 

Apparently, because of everything that happened, Dean hadn't checked his phone until a couple hours after you were admitted to the hospital. He was listed as your emergency contact in your burner phone and the hospital staff had tried calling him multiple times.

You didn't see the big deal. Worse things had happened and you hadn't even woken up before he finally managed to get to you. Still, he hadn't been able to stop apologizing. Despite your numerous attempts to explain to him how it was anything but his fault, you could tell Dean still continued to beat himself up about it.

"Didn't you hear me?" Dean's voice replaced the memory with reality and you were back in your room at the bunker. "Eat your breakfast, Y/N." He was now sitting in that same chair next to your bed where he had spent more hours than you could bear to count.

"I heard you," you mumbled as you pushed the tray back a bit. "I just don't agree. Tell me what's been going on. Has Sam found anything we can use?"

Dean let out a deep sigh, dragging it out a little longer than necessary for dramatic effect. "Should've asked the doctor for pills to help with your stubbornness," you heard him mumble under his breath as he shifted in his seat.

"Dean," you pleaded, pushing yourself up some more in an attempt to look stronger than you felt. "I'm just trying to help."

"You can help..."

"...by resting up and getting better," you sighed. "I know, I know. So you've said about a million times already."

"Then quit asking and eat your damn breakfast!" As soon as the words had left his lips, you could see the regret wash over Dean's face. It seemed he was surprised by him snapping at you just as much as you were.

You pursed your lips and inhaled through your nose, trying not to take the easy way out and send a few sharp words of your own flying his way. That wouldn't help anyone. You were both exhausted, physically but mostly emotionally. There was no denying the gap you felt in your makeshift family with three members beyond your reach.

But there was something else. You could see it in Dean's eyes. Beyond the grief, regret and every inch of guilt the Winchester was so familiar with, there was something in there you couldn't quite place. It surprised you. The two of you had never had secrets for each other.

Dean sensed you staring and cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "What?" he asked, his hand moving up to scratch the back of his neck. You wondered if he was trying to scratch at an itch or an urge.

"You tell me," you said with a simple shrug. "What's on your mind, Winchester?" Your eyes immediately raised at his silent response. "Is that... Is that a blush I see on your cheeks?"

"Shut up," he grumbled, shifting his head to hide at least part of his face. "You don't want to know."

The scoff that followed sent some waves of pain through your bruised rib cage but you tried to ignore it. This ought to be good. And you weren't giving up so easily. "I'd like to decide that for myself, if you don't mind."

"And what if I do mind?" He turned his head back, but only a little, raising an eyebrow.

"Then you might want to go back to that doctor and ask for those sturbbornness-reducing pills, or else I'm never going to give it a rest." Your grin was wide, challenging. It only grew when Dean fully turned toward you, giving in.

His hand reached over as if he was about to grab yours but then he seemed to change his mind and let it rest on the mattress next to you instead. "I can't stop thinking about how I almost lost you."

The words were a stab to the heart but they filled you with warmth at the same time. "You didn't, Dean. I'm right here."

"I know," Dean responded. His voice was a lot softer now, as were his eyes. He looked up at you and finally reached for your hand. You squeezed it tight. "But all I could think about was how I might never get to tell you the truth."

There it was again, that obvious implication that there was something Dean knew and you didn't. It had to be one hell of a secret if he didn't tell you before. Your stomach turned itself into a knot, tightening as the seconds passed in silence.

"What truth?" you whispered as if you were afraid you would scare this vulnerable moment away if you spoke any louder.

Dean shook his head, clearly struggling to get the right words out. Open, heartful conversations had never been his strong suit. You appreciated him trying and you squeezed his hand a second time to let him know.

"I've thought about telling you," he continued. "I almost did, so many times. And then I suddenly had a nurse on the phone, telling me about how you..." He swallowed the rest of the sentence, shaking his head once again. "My point is, I don't care anymore. If there ever was a right time to tell you, I know this is it."

You didn't dare speak. Your job in that moment was to listen, to let Dean get out whatever had been plaguing his mind for so long.

"I love you," he finally breathed. A weight visibly fell off his broad shoulders. "I'm in love with you, Y/N. Hell, I love you so much it scares me. Maybe it's selfish of me but I just had to tell you. You don't have to say anything. I know it's complicated in our line of work to just be so much as friends, and you didn't ask for any of this, but-"

"You're right." You couldn't help yourself, you had to interrupt. Or else his rambling would most likely be the death of both of you. To your surprise, he did stop and waited for you to continue.

"You're absolutely right," you said again. "It is extremely selfish of you." His face fell as his eyes searched yours for any sort of indicator that perhaps he hadn't just made the biggest mistake of his life by telling you all this.

Your hand was still in his. A third squeeze from you helped him visibly relax. "I'm selfish, too," you said softly. "I think that's why we're so good together."

If this hadn't been such a serious moment, you would have laughed at the way Dean was looking at you. His mouth agape, eyes rapidly blinking to somehow grasp what was happening. "You... You think we're good together?" he stammered. "You and me? The two of us, together?"

A snicker left your lips nonetheless. "Yes, Dean," you spoke slowly, as if he wouldn't understand otherwise. "That is where you hoped this was going, isn't it?"

Dean smiled in a way you had never seen on him before. It was shy, a trait you didn't recognize in the guy you thought you knew so well. "To be honest, I didn't really plan ahead that far," he confided in you. "I'm just glad I finally told you. And that you seem to be okay with this."

"I am," you assured him. "I'm okay with it because I love you, too. But..."

"Please, don't let there be a 'but'."

You let go of Dean's hand to playfully punched his arm. "Shut up. I'm trying here, Winchester." He sat up a bit straighter but held his full focus on you as you continued. "We both know this is a difficult time. A lot is happening, and we don't seem to be any closer to figuring it out so far. I just think it'd be a good idea for us to take things... slow. One step at a time, you know?"

Dean was bobbing his head in a nod of agreement so fast you were sure it was giving him a headache. You doubted he cared at all. "All right," he said. His voice was all business but the spark in his eyes betrayed how happy he was. In the midst of all this chaos, you were thankful that you had been able to give him something to hold on to. "How about we have that first step be breakfast?"

"Dean..."

"You have to eat," he argued in a more kinder tone than usual. "Here, I'll reheat your pancakes for you." Dean got up and grabbed your plate. He winked at you before leaving the room.

Though he was trying to play it cool, you didn't miss the slight spring in his step.

[leaveharmony]

** this got mad towards the end and it wasn't a targeted sort of mad at anyone in particular so much as a tired & probably-stemming-from-always-having-thing-I-enjoy-and-the-way-I-engage-with-it belittled sort of mad.  And as my father has always taught me, having or expressing emotions is shameful and wrong, so sorry.

Idk I think it's like....harder for me to cast judgement RE: ~cheating scandals~ or w/e because it goes back to it all being completely theoretical to me. No one's ever, face to face, at any time in any way expressed any kind of romantic interest in me whatsoever, I've never been in a relationship of any kind.  It hasn't come up, and that's fine.  Whether this is a case of you cannot miss what you've never had or whether I'm just like....a broken empty vessel for whom the yearning for human contact has gone beyond recall or desire, I dunno, and it doesn't concern me.  This isn't a pity me statement or an uwu secret crush notice me statement, I literally don't care at this point and tbh can't remember ever having done so.

Probably my oldest friend at this point, she....like as long as I've known her she's dated married men almost exclusively (and this started when we were both in highschool, when she was screwing around w/ her married english teacher - something I now understand was shocking predatory behaviour and probably statutory rape besides, but she does not acknowledge it as such so bring it up isn't my place).  She's been seeing the current one for at least three years now, I think, and he's married.  It's certainly an uncomfortable thing, and god knows I don't believe he could possibly think much of her or his wife if he's been doing this for so long and never once manned up and been honest or seriously considered ending his marriage.  But it's her life and we don't talk much anymore anyway, so I've never felt like it was my job or my place to be her therapist RE: holy shit what the fuck is wrong with you why do you do this to yourself and how could you do this to someone else?

Like full disclosure she started ‘seeing’ that english teacher when we were sort of puppy love internet-together (another long story but she wanted to or at least said she did and I sorta went along with it cos I didn't want to hurt her feelings...which of course, then it certainly seemed v. much like she didn't have many of, considering within a week she was having it off w/ someone else...again, this was a detached ‘Oh’ kind of moment, not really connected to any real hurt as she had instigated this and I hadn't really felt anything myself...it was upsetting in a sort of, ‘so this is what people do when they tell you they love you, that is disappointing but I guess life is not fiction’ kind of way but not in a ‘how could you, I love you’ kind of way.  As a first/only experience it could have gone better tbh, but it certainly gave me the right level of expectation afa being used & discarded when someone more convenient came along).

It's possible that most of the people I have ever known have just been fundamentally really bad at relationships and so I just sort of assume this is a normal thing; my father is an abusive shitbag and we're inescapably trapped with him, grandpa was a sort of...disinterested stick in the mud with a frightening temper for whom my grandmother gave up all her interests in sports and the outdoors because he did not share them.  Wabs never married, Tosh told me like she was expecting a pat on the back and a medal that she'd been faithful to her husband as he died of cancer 'even though she  ‘didn't have to be.’  And my instinctive reaction wasn't GOOD FOR YOU so much as it was “....what?!” but again...I didn't speak, because what the fuck do I know?  Maybe ppl run off and start seeing other ppl as soon as their partners get so much as a headcold all the time.

Ppl just sorta get abused and trampled and left and cheated on and discarded, or they do the same to others, and it just looks like a hell of a mess I'm well out of, tbh.  Which I guess is another reason...unless somebody's getting beat or otherwise abused, I feel like it's none of my business.  So honestly, “Tana slept around when he was single and one day some chick he canoodled with for like two months stabbed him for it” is filed under “Yeah that'll happen, thank god he didn't die” rather than “Hahahahaha karma amiright he totes deserved it, domestic abuse and attempted murder are hilarious when they’re directed at men who’re full of themselves!”

Nobody needs to tell me to have low fuckin' expectations for men, ok, I live under the boot of one of their idiot kings.  Tell me Tana fatshames his family for eating, tell me he gaslights them or acts like when they’re hurt or injured they’re making it up to personally inconvenience him, tell me they have to rigidly control their emotions around him to avoid setting off his violent temper, and ok.  Tell me he's a bigot, tell me he hits his family, tell me he hates women, tell me he's a rapist, ok.  But like...’he had a lot of sex and probably hurt people's feelings’ is not really high on my list of cardinal offenses b/c as far as I can tell, that's fucking everyone.  It isn't like he still does, it isn't like he's not tried to put it behind him and grow from it and be better.  It's practically his motto.   Why is ‘I acted in a shitty way but I'm trying to atone and I still look back and feel guilty about it’ only an admirable, affirming  thing to aspire to when it's a tumblr post & not when a guy is straight up saying it?  Which he has, on multiple occasions.  Can't change the past, can only try to learn from it.

At.  Least.  He.  Fucking.  Tries.

When has redneck george ever walked back his comments about gay ppl or his Islamophobia, when has Lesnar?  Beyond a token apology and chasing it w/ a dozen I'M NOT A RACIST THO interviews when has Hogan really acknowledged the depths of how he fucked up?  When did Warrior apologize for his vile bigotry, where's Elgin sincerely regretting being a fucking piece of shit dragging a rape victim's name through the mud?  Jericho's response to ‘hey maybe you shouldn't be advertising your cruise by saying there will be loads of bikini-clad women there available for you to ogle’ was essentially ‘are you triggered, bro, y so srys?’ and at no point did he objections seriously.  Orton never so much as thinks for two seconds before condemning BLM protesters or footballers who take the knee, AND he voted for Trump, but other than hollowly chanting that he's not a racist while blatantly doing things that are racist, silence.  Honma beat his girlfriend, Snuka murdered his partner, Austin smacked Debra around, Angle got stoned out of his mind and broke into his ex's apartment, X-Pac hit Chyna, exactly how often do they refer back to what happened, when did they apologize or express regret or even acknowledge any of it?  I mean I guess Benoit can't, what with the fucking suicide after he bashed in Nancy's skull and murdered his son.

Ppl have different things they can tolerate and forgive, is I guess my point, or at least one of them.  Which is fine!  I mean...I'd sure fucking side-eye anybody who writes any of the above a pass, but, I guess everybody's stories and reasons are different.

I like Tana.  I'm a fan of his.  Ok?  Like it probably sounds like I think he's a flawless angel crowned with light b/c compared to my fucking father, he IS.  It doesn't mean I'm being willfully blind to mistakes he's made or that I'm absolving him of every sin he's ever committed.  I think he's a good person and it's heartening and encouraging that he's in the world and if saying so without adding 18 asterisks about past behaviour and an disclaimer acknowledging all men as shit and all people as inherently flawed makes me a gullible childish ~fangirl~ than ok, I guess I am.  Everybody knows my tags for wrestling/wrestlers, which are there as much as a courtesy to anybody who needs to blacklist as they are a filing system for me (that’s why there’s a catch-all!  For ppl I haven’t thought up tags for yet or don’t intend to!), and tumblr savior is right there if me being silly about my favs in my own space bothers everybody so fucking much, god knows it wouldn't be the first time I set somebody cringing and they had to tune me out before they quietly dropped my ass like a particularly stupid puppy on a country road.  That I am a sloppy fawning emotional mess of untreated neurosis who hyperfixates on things & people who make me feel halfway hopeful for entire minutes at a time & gets stupidly overexcited about stuff isn't new information to me, so if you can't deal with that then... Well...sorry, honestly.  Like sincerely.  I know how I am and I try not to be but I can't help it sometimes when I like something.  Don't feel bad about leaving if you don't want to deal with it, cos I get it, honestly.  Have exactly zero (0) guilt feelings about it.  I’m a fundamentally repulsive creature, ppl have hard limits on how long they can put up with me, and so it has always been, and so it goes.