Beloved With Green Eyes 𖣔 Dean Winchester

7

I wake with a jump, making my eyes shoot open and dart around the dark room.

My hands push me to sit up straight in my bed, and I rub the sleep out of my eyes, shaking away the nightmare I just endured.

It's been over a week since my last nightmare, and it's safe to say I haven't missed their presence one bit.

I stand out of the warm sheets and onto the cold hardwood floor before stepping over to my window that has a clear view of the South Dakota sun just starting to peak along the top of the horizon.

Figuring it was around five thirty in the morning I decided to stay in my shorts and band shirt along with grabbing a hoodie out of my drawer and creaking open my bedroom door to make my way down the steps.

Turning the corner of the hallway I see Sam sound asleep on the couch with shaggy hair sticking up all over making my lips tug into a smile after taking notice of his drool on the pillow and soft snores.

I quickly realized that Dean wasn't on the floor next to him or anywhere else, turning my smile into a frown, recalling the events of last night.

"I'm here, Dean," I reassured the hunter, softly running my hand up and down his back as his sobs slowly resided.

Even though I knew Dean was silently hurting from John's death, I never expected an outburst of this kind to come from him.

Usually, his coping consisted of pent-up anger taken out on a bar fight or drinking enough to make him lose consciousness until he eventually felt better again.

This was a whole new side of Dean he'd never revealed to me before and it almost felt relieving to know he wasn't the same boy I left almost four years ago, maybe I had judged him too quick.

His sobs had completely subsided now, leaving him holding me with deep, shaky breaths like he was starting to panic.

"Dean?" I asked softly before pulling back to see the tense expression set on his face as he avoided my eyes.

I raised my hand to cup his cheek, feeling him lean into the touch as I wiped away a tear stain with my thumb. He tried to pull away, but I brought my hand up to the other side of his face and forced him to stay.

"Hey," I spoke as his eyes met mine, and I fully saw just how much pain he was really holding behind them and wondered how I didn't notice before. "You don't have to deal with this alone. Let me be here for you."

His eyes searched mine, looking for any sign of truth to hold onto before I watched his eyes hardened as his hands gripped onto my wrists, pulling them away back down to my sides.

"You said that the last time too," he spoke with a coldness in his tone. "And look where that got me."

I opened my mouth to say something –anything– but I could find the words to respond to him quick enough as he started to walk away, leaving me standing beside the broken impala and an empty feeling.

Tears threatened to reach my eyes, but I choked them down, ignoring the hurt feeling that Dean Winchester knew how to instill in me.

Turning back to the younger Winchester, I grabbed the spare blanket beside the couch and covered him since it was a cold morning before going into the kitchen to find something to cook a decent breakfast with.

I opened the fridge door, and I almost gasped to find that Bobby had listened to my request and went grocery shopping with the list I made.

Not a softy my ass I thought with a chuckle and started to grab out the ingredients I needed.