SupernaturalxReader

Ending It (DeanxReader)

Dean x Suicidal!Reader

TRIGGER WARNING!! SUICIDE ATTEMPT AND CUTTING!! BE WARNED!!

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It happened again. Another failed hunt. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stop the tears from spilling out onto your cheeks. That too was a failed effort. Those people died because of you. Just a few seconds too late.

You covered your face and curled up into a ball on your bed, praying that neither of the Winchesters would walk into the room. The last thing you needed was them seeing you as weak as you saw yourself. Either that... or stopping you from what you needed to do. You never thought it would come to this. It might have been curiosity, or it might have been necessity, which made you consider this. Anything to help.

You took out the silver blade you used for hunting monsters out. You let out a breathless chuckle, though it was entirely devoid of humor. You put the sharp knife to your wrist, sliding the slim edge into your skin. You clenched your teeth, and blood ran down your skin. You didn't expect the beauty of the release, the physical pain distracting you from your mental anguish.

So you did it again. And again. You continued to make slits in your arm, each time feeling relief. After seven cuts, you dropped the knife and flopped down on your bed. You couldn't have the boys seeing what you'd done. You took out the first-aid kit and cleaned up the bloody wounds before wrapping your arm in gauze. You wiped away your tears until there was no sign of your distress.

Kicking the kit back under the bed, you just managed to throw the bloody towel into the trash can before your door swung open. You looked up and met the candy-apple green eyes of Dean Winchester. His gaze immediately went to the gauze on your arm.

"What happened?"

"Damn werewolf got to me," you lied, absently scratching at the gauze.

"Gotcha." You were almost surprised at how easily he believed you, and guilt almost drove you to tell the truth.

Almost.

"I'm gonna head to bed," you excused, giving Dean a pointed look.

"I was just gonna ask if you wanted to head out. Sammy and I were going to the diner down the street."

"Nah, I'm good." Dean gave you a crooked smile, and you gave him a weak grin. "Alright. Goodnight, Dean." You crawled underneath your covers, and Dean headed out, shutting off the light. Once you heard the door of the bunker slam shut, you allowed the tears to make a return, slowly lulling you to sleep.

...

Three months had passed since you'd begun cutting. You continuously failed on hunts, leaving you more depressed than ever. Dean had started to get frustrated with you, and you could only hang your head in shame as you thought about the people you failed.

Finally, the day came when Dean let loose. You'd let a demon get away, as well as seriously injure Sam and kill a little girl. His deep, gravelly voice burned your ears, and your heart cried out for some kind of relief.

"I can't believe you!" he roared, smacking books off the table. You flinched as they thudded on the floor. You could feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "What have you been doing, just pussyfooting around?!"

"Dean, I'm sorry--"

"You'd damn well better be!" he responded furiously. "Were you trying to get Sam killed? Or that little girl? It's your job to be a hunter, (Y/n)!" Dean put a hand to his forehead and let out an angry huff. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"