supernatural one-shots [requests closed] UNDER EDITING

dean winchester || "i can't"

|| edited
- takes place in season 2 (all hell breaks loose) -

     "What did you do?" you hiss, shoving your hands into Dean's chest, sending him staggering back a few steps. A hurt look flickers across his face and you feel a pang of guilt. All of your anger immediately washes away. You're not sure how to feel. The only thing you do know is that Sam Winchester made a deal, and that he was supposed to be dead. But there he was, across the graveyard from you, talking with Bobby and Ellen on how they should go about hunting the newly released demons, fresh out of the gates of hell.

     Dean looks up at you sadly and tears begin to slowly fill your eyes. 

     "Why is he alive, Dean?" you choke. "You didn't... go to the crossroads. Did you?"

     Again, he answers without words, just the same heartbreaking expression.

     "How could you?" you whisper, the oncoming tears beginning to blur your vision. "I mean, I understand that he's your brother. I do. I'd die for my family if they were around." A single tear spills out of your left eye and Dean's eyes glitter as well. "But all logic speaks against it."

     "(Y/N), it's not about logic," Dean interrupts, taking a few steps forward and reaching towards you.

     "No," you say firmly, taking a few defensive steps back. Your voice cracking, you add, "Let me finish.

     "First of all, you're a far better hunter than Sam and I. You'd be able to save more people than the two of us combined. What's our success rate going to be with you gone?"

     "I still have a year left," Dean points out softly. "I'll teach you two everything I know. And even when I'm gone, there'll be Bobby."

     You ignore him and continue. "Second, Sam for sure would've gone to Heaven."

     "If there is such a place," Dean argues.

     You disregard his skepticism. "I mean, he'd have had a decent amount of time in purgatory. But he would've still gone to Heaven."

     Dean steps closer to you, tears streaming from his eyes at the same rate as yours. 

     "(Y/N), please stop," he pleads.

     "You're going to hell," you state coldly. You surprise yourself so much that chills prickle your arms, surprise Dean so much that he pauses in his tracks. Suddenly, the desperate tears falling from your eyes become angry ones, and you're furious.

     "You're going to hell," you repeat, "and there's nothing you can do to stop it." You grit your teeth together as you come to the realization that Dean's fate is inevitable. "You're going to hell to prevent Sam from finally being happy. He would've been with Mary, and Jess, and now that his soul is free, maybe even John! And you could've joined them all one day, Dean! You had a chance! You could've seen them again! Sam would've been happy!"

     Dean takes a few quick, furious steps towards you until you're face-to-face.

     "What about my happiness?" he roars. You flinch as his spit hits your face. Dean looks away, running a hand through his hair. "What about..." his voice falters as he tries to speak through tears. "What about my happiness? Sammy's the only family I got."

     You said I was your family, you think sadly. Your rage melts away and you open your mouth to apologize to him.

     "Besides," adds Dean quietly. "No one would miss me anyway."

     You whimper through tears as your heart shatters for him. You close the space between you with a few steps, positioning one hand on his shoulder and one on his chest, resting your head over his heart. You listen to the steady beat and close your eyes.

     "Sam would miss you," you murmur into the cloth of his t-shirt. "I would miss you." His heartbeat quickens, and his hand reaches up to find its way underneath your shirt to the small of your back. You tense under the spark of his fingertips on your bare skin.

     You lift your head and gaze into his soft green eyes. The stare breaks for just a moment when his gaze flickers to your lips. Not wanting to wait any longer, you move your hand from his shoulder to his jaw and pull his face down to yours.

     You close your eyes and press your lips against his, and they melt into yours willingly. Your mouths move together slowly, and you kiss through the tears. For a few moments, you stand with him, snuggled into the warmth of his body, drinking in the taste and the feel and the sound of it all.

     But then you remember that in one year, these lips will be blue and cold, and the person behind them will be burning in hellfire.

     You break away quickly, immediately overwhelmed at the thought. Dean looks down at you puzzled.

     "I can't," you whisper. "Not now." You turn on your heel and begin to walk away.

     Dean grabs for your hand, but you wrench it away, walking faster.

     "(Y/N), wait!"

     "I'm sorry," you cry and leave him standing alone in the graveyard.