I Don't Bite [Dean Winchester x Reader] Book 2

What Did You Do?

Dean's lips still tingled from the deal he had just made when he finally returned to Cold Oak. He didn't regret it, not one bit. He deserved a year of happiness. He had already given up so much, failed so many people - his dad, the Roadhouse, Y/N wherever she might be. He wasn't going to fail Sam too. He wasn't going to lose his brother.

He was shaking. Maybe it was the anticipation of seeing if the deal had really worked, or maybe it was the unsettling realization that he only had a year left. The fact that it was only a year didn't bother him much - he wasn't the kind of guy to have a bucket list, other than to kill that yellow-eyed bastard. But the fact that he now had a looming deadline, a ticking clock, was unsettling.

One year. That was plenty of time for him to make sure his family would be alright.

Dean stopped in his tracks when a howl tore through the crisp night air. His lips parted in surprise, brows furrowing. It sounded close, too close to be a normal wolf. They wouldn't venture this close to town.

His heart leapt into his throat as he spun in circles in the center of town, nearly on top of the spot where Sam's limp body had collapsed into his arms only days before. He peered into the woods, hoping for a flash of black fur or the glare of golden eyes.

Instead all he got was the sound of pounding bipedal footsteps charging through the town behind him. Dean turned away from the woods just as a figure rounded the corner at a dead sprint.

The first thing he noticed was how beautiful she was. He had always seen her as attractive, but beauty was something different. Thinking back on it, he had probably seen her as beautiful for a while now; it must have been about the time that they found his father when his opinion on her changed. He had been so angry when she came back after leaving them without a word. He knew now why she left - she needed to develop self-control again. When she came back, she was beautiful. When she stood up to him, when she tried to put his father in his place, when she defended Dean until John nearly put a bullet in her skull. That had made her beautiful. They had quickly gone from friends to family in the months following her return.

The second thing he noticed was how much of a mess she was. It looked like half of her body was mummified - her neck had patches of bandages on it, one forearm was tightly bound up to the wrist and her other hand was wrapped tightly. She walked stiffly, hobbling on a mangled thigh that was entirely wrapped with a large patch on the back. Her head - was she missing an ear?

His jaw went slack at the amount of blood coating her skin. Her lips were stained red, blood trails dripping down her jaw and the exposed skin of her neck. Her skin was paler than usual - she looked weaker, exhausted and hungry. He had never seen her like this before, so... damaged. War torn. It was terrifying, seeing her so shaken.

The last thing Dean noticed was her fists closing around his gray shirt beneath his flannel, dragging him closer with a snarl on her lips.

"What did you do?" she snapped, inches away from him. She dragged him forward, nearly pulling him over. Her eyes were molten gold, filled with rage and terror. He felt like he was drowning in them, though he wasn't complaining. "What did you do!?"

Her shouts jarred Dean and he pulled himself away from her, glaring daggers at her bruised form. He lifted one hand, about to wrap it around her wrist but halted, his palm hovering just above her bandages. "Where the hell have you been?" he growled out in an attempt to keep the loving worry out of his voice. He placed his palm on her shoulder, a place that looked relatively intact. "What happened? Are you-"

Dean flinched as her warm palm met the side of his jaw and neck in a gentle touch, practically cradling him. Her hands shook and she pressed her thumb tightly against his jaw. His eyes widened as her eyes welled up with tears. "Tell me you didn't sell your soul, Dean."