Abducted: Part One (SPN | Dean x Reader | Slow Burn)

Chapter 17: Room 7B

April 2014

That night you couldn't sleep. Worrying about Dean and his change in behaviour during the day. From happily cooking with you, to tense and agitated as he read in the library. The way he'd suddenly left so late at night without a word. Dean would normally tell you if he was going out, but then again, you had said goodnight already. And it wasn't any of your business what he or Sam did. They kept you updated on their lives and hunts out of courtesy, not because they had to.

You tossed and turned in your bed. Sleep just would not come to you.

Maybe, you should call Sam? Tell him what had happened just a few hours ago, and with Crowley the night before. But Sam was seven hours away and concentrating on a case.

Looking at your phone and realising it was now 4am, you got up to check again if Dean had returned or not. You had also checked around twelve and two. His room was closest to yours, so you headed there first, but his door was wide open and there was no human body lying in the bed there.

You continued down the halls towards the mess room, but there was no Dean there either. Listening intently to the sounds of the bunker as you stood at the kitchen island, drinking a glass of water, you hoped you might hear the rustling of paper from the library or the sound of Dean cleaning his gun at the war room table. But there was dead silence.

If Dean was in one of the aforementioned rooms, you were hesitant to physically look inside, not wanting him to catch you in your concerned state. Not wanting him to be annoyed at you for intruding on his privacy. But your worry got the better of you and you chanced a peek from the corner of the doorway that separated the hall to the mess room and the war room.

There was still no sound. No rustling, no clanking of metal. Not even the sound of a glass clunking on any of the tables. So you walked further into the war room, standing between the curved stairs and the large table that sat in the middle. You had a clear view of the library, but it was empty. Save for the books piled on the middle table and the empty alcohol bottles Dean had left behind.

He was still out. Hopefully somewhere safe. Even if that meant the bench seat or stool of some bar. You didn't want to think of him, unconscious in the Impala somewhere, run off the road because he'd been drinking.

And then a thought crossed your mind over to Abaddon and the First Blade. What if he had discovered the demon's location and was now on his way to kill her? Had he met up with Crowley and the two of them were out chasing after the Knight of Hell?

You needed to sleep. To stop overthinking everything. To stop worrying about Dean. So you returned to your room and got back under the covers of your bed, forcing your eyes closed and thinking desperately of falling asleep. Trying to will it so.

And eventually, sleep must've come, because you awoke late into the next day, close to lunch time. And even though you realised you must've slept, it didn't feel like you'd managed even a wink.

Although your desire to go and see if Dean had returned since you had slept was strong, showering was your first point of call. The tossing and turning during the night and the walking around at odd hours had made you ashamedly sweaty.  And if you were to run into Dean, even Sam, you wanted to be fresh and not make it obvious that you had been stressing during the night.

Finally dressed and feeling somewhat presentable for the outside world, read the bunker, you made your way through the halls towards the mess room to find yourself some caffeine. And as you turned the corner to step down into the room, there was Dean, sitting at the table, his arms folded over the top and his head resting on them like a pillow. He was asleep and wearing the same clothes you'd seen him in last.