To You I Belong | SPN | Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

21 - Derisionment

How ironic. Exactly like that stupid song, with the crappy Canadian singer, who would've thought it? It certainly figured, and Dean kicked the ground beneath him like a petulant child.

"Aw, c'mon," he said. "Not my Baby."

But he quickly drew that kick back in as he realised just as quickly that the jackass Casper they'd been hunting was not only in the driver's seat of his beloved car. She'd stepped on the gas and floored it.

Fuck.

Baby's engine roared and her tires screeched as she took off straight towards him.

Fu-u-u-u-u-ck.

There wasn't much time to think, let alone scratch his own ass. He spun on his feet, though. Twisted his torso, almost tripping over but then bolting in his boots over the pavers of the shonky old bridge.

It was always a bridge, always in the middle of the night. Always up high with nowhere to go but forward or down if you felt like swimming.

Which he did not.

He'd tried that once before, and he'd found river slop stuck in the crevices of his sack days later because of it.

So, he raised his knees higher, only for his bow legs to jolt them again and again on the downward. Thump after thump after thump. Yard after yard after yard. Each breath, more and more haggard as his beloved Impala inched closer and closer with every new inch he took.

His old bones creaked beneath his weight. The wood and steel did the same, yet still he ran and it was a wonder the whole damn thing didn't come tumbling down under him. It would seem luck was on his side until he reached the end where the suspension turned to gravel road and the sides were no longer railings and he flung himself off a la Superman with arms stretched out.

Then he rolled. Then flailed those same arms in the air, attempting to stop the inevitable. Of course, it did jack and his face planted into the dirt with an "urgh." Or something close to it came from his mouth as he spat out all that had entered it.

That's when he heard the loud thunk, the crash, and the definitive crinkle of shattering glass as your words from the Salina diner eight weeks ago repeated in his mind.

"What would you do if Baby got totalled?" you'd asked him.

Well. He'd fucking flip his lid is what he'd do, but "Please, Baby, please," he said in the moment. His eyes, wide shut in prayer as his elbows lifted him up off the dusty grass.

To Dean's horror, the transmission shifted, and the car moved again. Followed by the crunch of a tree and another shift that had him leaping up just in time to run - again.

Why did this always happen to him? Why did it have to happen to Baby? Why did you have to go and...say all that crap you had about her getting totalled?

Yeah. You. This was all...

...your fault.

Well, not really.

How could it be when you were five hundred miles away in Kansas, awaiting his and Sam's return? You weren't psychic. You certainly didn't know this would happen when you'd compared your mate's most prized possession to your own loss. Something you regretted since the moment the initial shock his car had attacked him delved.

Your phone pinged with another message from Sam, and you looked down to see a simple thumb emoji flash over the map you had opened on the screen.

Thanks for the warning...

Dean may have been in a foul mood, but now, three days after the incident on the bridge, his pin had moved to right outside, signalling their arrival, and thank god. He'd assured you he was okay. You just weren't sure you believed him.