The Unrequited (Dean x Male Reader)

A Numbing Ache That Plagues The Heart

As you'd laid on the bed, you'd hoped for nothing but to pass out and not feel anything. Whatever that had happened had left you numb in the head with nothing but pain and confusion that felt like little insects crawling under your skin and running up and down your body. You were in shock from everything that had happened and even as you'd registered the fact that you were in fact in shock, you still couldn't bring yourself to think your way through it. The only thing that had kept going in your mind was the look Dean had had on his face. In a matter of a few hours, he'd gone from fucking you into the mattress in a romantic retreat to wanting to kill you in a shitty motel.

Where did that leave you? What were you to him or hell, what were you to yourself at this point? The longer you stayed at the question, the more you felt like a piece of meat to take a bite out of when fresh and throw out the day it gets fowl. Your dad had seen you as a burden, a rotting reminder of his hurting past. John saw you as a lousy buy that you knew he wished he could return and even though you now knew Dean didn't even look at you as an equal human being to begin with, you still didn't want to answer the question for him.

You half wondered if you stayed still and let things pass, whether the pain would eventually go away and you'd did a peaceful death. But your fancies were filled with folly that you knew even the moment you were spinning the yarn for them, yet the thought of a silent nothing remained tempting enough to linger on.

Alas, the pain got worse over time to the point that even breathing had begun to feel painful. You somehow had gotten up to take a couple of pain killers from the bag that Dean had left and laid down again, watching out of the window as you saw the shadows shift as the sun made its journey across the skies as if mocking you in your stationary helplessness.

Somehow, sleep had eventually found you without much of a warning and you only woke up with a start when you heard the door open. You'd tried getting up to grab the knife from under the drawer but had only ended up grunting and barely plopping yourself up on your elbows.

"Dean, you there?" You sighed when you heard John's voice, positioning the pillows and sitting back as he walked inside and turned the lights on, making you shut your eyes.

You didn't need to look at John's face to know that he must've been knocked out of his senses by the look of the room and your face marked with dried blood peeking out from under the sheets. The silence itself was enough to register it's awkward realisation. Yet, John decided on one question that you'd had no idea on how to answer.

"What happened?" He asked, his body animating part by part as he finally walked over towards the bed and pulled the sheet apart, looking at you. "What'd you do now, Y/N?" He sighed, walking over to the bathroom and coming back with some water and a cloth as he started to clean your wounds. You winced every now and then but John was gentle and most of it didn't hurt.

"He thinks I told Sam to run away," you spoke, your voice surprisingly a lot more stable and clear than you had imagined.

He shook his head, continuing to tend to your wounds in an extremely methodical manner. "That's a hot-head alright," he said. "Dean's always been a really responsible kid but when it comes to Sam, it's like his whole mind shuts down and everything goes haywire."

"He was going to kill me," you said, looking at him and almost wondering if all of this was even real or if you were still dreaming.

John looked up at you in surprise and looked as if he didn't believe what you had just said but as his outright denial shifted to taking it as a hyperbole to a fully fledged realization that it might be true, it seemed almost as if all the colour drained from his face and he looked down again, focusing on tending to your wounds instead. "You'll need to get in the tub," he said after a while. "I'll put in fresh bandages once you're clean." He said and helped you get up once he'd drawn hot water in the bathtub and put in some antiseptic liquid in water.

From then on, not a single word between you two was exchanged as he helped you out of your clothes and made sure you were comfortably settled in the tub before leaving you alone in the bathroom. You took your time relishing in the comfort of the hot water and rubbed out whatever John had missed, most of your body hurting even at the slightest touch. You weren't really thinking of anything and found that you actually couldn't even if you wanted to, a single tune occupying the whole of your mind that you remembered from a detergent advert you'd seen years ago.

John came back on his own after a while and helped you dry yourself and get dressed, leading you back to the bed. You saw that he had changed the sheets and had heated soup for you that was still fuming on the bedside cabinet.

"Here, you think you can hold it?" he said, handing you the bowl once you had settled in. "Your hair's still damp, I'll get you another towel."

"Do you know where he went?" You asked, looking at him as he got you a towel.

"I'm don't," he said. "But don't worry about it, he'll come around. He always does."

"And we just wait here for him?"

John sighed as he brought the first aid and waited for you to finish eating before wrapping your wounds. He started with the wounds that had started bleeding again from the friction of the towel. "I will, there's a case a couple of towns North. I'll drop you off at Bobby's till then. He'll look after you."

You wanted to ask a handful of more questions and definitely didn't want to go anywhere with any Winchester at that point but chose not to, half tired of everything and half knowing that there was no point in most of the questions that you'd have in mind.

"He's in Stanford, you know," John said, surprising you this time. "Sam, he's in law school there."

"You found him?"

"Yeah, he cleaned up good after him." He chuckled, almost proudly. "But there were still a couple of trails to follow. Didn't meet him though, just know that he's where he belongs."

"So you're not going to make him get back?"

"Oh, no. It's hardly efficient at this point. Dean's made for the business, Sammy's got his own thing. They'll work out fine." He said and you almost asked, 'what about me?' before you realized how idiotic it was to even expect a decent answer for it. "Don't tell him though. He'll go after him if he finds out." He said and you nodded, questioning if you were even going to see Dean's face again.

"I'll get us something to eat while you rest. If Dean comes, tell him I'm here first. Yeah?" He said and you nodded in reply, feeling your eyelids droop only a few minutes after he'd left.