Supernatural Imagines and Preferences

Someone You Loved, BYG part 2

Dean x Reader

I'm going under and this time there's no one to save me

Dean stared into his, now empty, whiskey glass. Not noticing Sam standing in the doorway as he began to refill his glass. Sam shook his head as he walked away. He had given up on trying to get his brother to quit drinking his pain away.

This all or nothing  really  got a way of driving me crazy

Dean stumbled to the room he used to share with you. The almost empty whiskey bottle hanging limply in his grip. Entering the room, tears streaked down his cheeks as he was bombarded with memories of you. He brought the bottle to his lips and chugging the remainder of the amber liquid, chucking the bottle at the wall when it was empty. Dean didn't notice the sound of shattering glass as he fell to his knees, crying into his hands.

I need somebody to heal

Somebody to know 

Sam ran down the bunker halls. When he arrived at Dean's room, he cautiously opened the door. Letting out a sad sigh as he took in the sight before him. Glass shards littered the floor by one of the walls, but Sam focused his gaze on his brother. Dean was passed out in the middle of the floor. Gently as he could, Sam got his brother onto the bed. Glancing at his brother once last time before leaving to go find a broom.

Somebody to have

Somebody to hold

It's easy to say

But it's never the same

The next day, Dean decided to go to the bar to drink. Hoping that the memories wouldn't find him there. Sitting at the bar, he ordered whiskey. He quickly downed the first glass, welcoming the burn as it slid down his throat. 

Now on his fifth or sixth glass, he had lost count, Dean stared at the liquid swirling around his glass. He didn't notice any of the girls that came up and tried to flirt with him. They weren't you.

I guess I kinda liked  the way you numbed all the pain

They wouldn't hold him at night, murmuring words of comfort into his ear to lull him back to sleep after he'd had a bad nightmare. Their smile wouldn't brighten his whole day and their laughter wouldn't be his favorite sound in the world. They wouldn't sing along and rock out to the classic rock that was always playing in the impala like you did. They weren't you.

Now the day bleeds 

Into nightfall

Throwing some money on the counter, Dean made his way outside. There had still been plenty of daylight hours left when Dean had entered the bar, now it was pitch black out as he made his way to the impala.

And you're not here

To get me through it all

 As he started up the impala, Dean's thoughts turned to you. How you would've demanded the keys from him, insisting that he was in no shape to be driving. How you would've gently taken whatever alcoholic beverage he  had been drinking when you thought he had enough. You always made sure he made it safely into bed.

I let my guard down

Driving back to the bunker, Dean remembered the first time he said "I love you". He had been so nervous, worried that you wouldn't feel the same. Wringing his hands as he made his way to the kitchen, where you were busy making breakfast. Working at the stove, you flashed a smile over your shoulder at Dean when he entered the room. Your smile calmed his nerves and made a grin appear on his face. He walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

"I love you," he said, resting his head on top of your shoulder.

"I love you too," you said, no hesitation. You turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck. Giving him a quick peck on the lips before going back to making breakfast. 

And then you pulled the rug

The pleasant memory was soon replaced with the memory of when you'd left.

Dean and Sam had just gotten back from a hunt. Dean couldn't wait to see you again. He hadn't seen your car in the garage so he had assumed you were on a supply run. Hoping to get showered and stuff put away before you got back, Dean made his way to your shared room. As he threw his duffle bag onto the bed he realized he didn't see any of your things. Checking your dresser drawers, only to find them empty. He couldn't find your suitcase or duffle bag either. About to pull out his phone and call you, Dean noticed a letter on the bedside table. Het sat down on the bed and started to read. Tears were streaming down his cheeks by the time he was done.

The same thought that crossed his mind that night, played over and over in his head as he pulled into the garage. 

You were gone and you weren't coming back.

But Dean had gotten kind of used to being someone you loved.

The End

A/N Note:

If you guys want a part 3, what Lewis Capaldi song do you want to use as inspiration?

Kez