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

4.16 It's Me, Again

 Purgatory was silent. No wind through the thick boughs of the trees. No chirping of birds, chittering of squirrels, rustling of leaves. Only the occasional sound of footsteps in the distance and blood pounding in my ears.

My chest rose and fell with labored breaths as I stared at the forest floor beneath my feet. I hunched forward with my elbows propped on my knees, seated on a fallen log. My heart fluttered in my chest, and my gaze whipped back and forth as thoughts raced through my head.

"I really hoped to never see you here," he said, the warmth of his voice washing over me like coming up for air after a dip in freezing water. "Certainly not so..."

"So what?" I grumbled, refusing to look at him. "Torn up? Scarred?"

"Young," my father answered with a wistful exhale. "So young."

At that, I finally lifted my gaze and fixed the pair of men with a cold stare. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his expression soft. His eyes were tired, sporting wrinkles I hadn't seen before. Chikaltio squatted beside him, a harsh glare on his features no different than the day I felt his neck snap between my jaws.

"How old?" he asked as his lips turned down in a thin frown.

"Twenty-eight."

"Twenty-eight..." he echoed. "Twelve years..."

Chikaltio scoffed. I scowled at his twisted sneer, and my father whipped to stare at him with raised eyebrows. "You only made it, what, four years after me?"

"Less than that."

"Serves you right-"

"Do you want to die again?"

Chikaltio's lips drew back in a snarl, and I followed close behind. I watched him tense as if to stand, only for my father to place a hand on his shoulder. "Tom," he spoke softly, his voice echoing a warning. Chikaltio frowned, relaxing only slightly. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you two had history."

"She killed me."

"You deserved it," I snapped with bared teeth.

"I don't dispute that," my father responded. Chikaltio huffed and shrugged his hand away. "But there's no point in bickering now. What's done is done. I should have... put the pieces together when you told me, Tom." He patted the grouchy man on the shoulder with an apologetic smile, I assumed, referencing some conversation about how Chikaltio died.

"Big, black wolf in Alabama didn't clue you in?" I scoffed and glared at the pair. My father cast me an admonishing glance and parted his lips to retort.

"Not so big and bad now, are 'ya?" Chikaltio sneered. "So who did it? Who finally brought the big bitch down?"

"Someone more competent than you clearly-" he interrupted with a snarl, and I bared my teeth in reciprocation. My snarl tightened to a grimace. Memories rushed back in a blur. A hand on the back of my neck, pinning me to the floor, and the taste of copper on my tongue. What I had first thought was typical biblical teleportation...

Dead. God, what a strange thought. I didn't feel dead–although I'd never really had a concept of what it meant to feel dead. Sam didn't remember his brief stint in Hell, and, well, Dean remembered it all too well and tried not to think about it. Sure, he'd felt everything, but... I'd expected everything to just go dark.

Why would God make a place for monsters he clearly cared so little about?

My father called my name softly, and I flinched. A warm tone, so familiar and so alien at the same time. He had always been the softer one of my parents, more careful with how he treated me than my hunter-turned-monster mother.