Hold me? (A Lydia Martin x Dean Winchester fanfic)

(Chapter 1) Deans death...

Third person's POV

Dean is barely conscious, but he can open his eyes just enough to see the First Blade sitting on a grate a few yards away. Lydia rushes in from the opposite side of the warehouse at a breakneck run, gasping at the sight of her hunter with blood all over his face. Dean using the little strength he has, wills the Blade into his hand. Just as he goes to swing up and stab the Blade into Metatron, Metatron himself buries an angel blade deep into Dean's chest with both hands.

Dean gasps horribly as the sound of his blood pouring out of his body reverberates in the open warehouse...

"Nooo!"

It feels like everything goes in slow motion as Dean gasps for air.

Metatron pulls the blade out of his chest.

Dean's eyes slowly move to meet Lydia across the warehouse. Banshee and Hunter share a gaze as Dean's life starts to ebb away.

The Angel Tablet falls to the floor and shatters into a thousand pieces as Dean's near lifeless body falls over. Lydia races to her boyfriend completely ignoring Metatron standing right there, angel blade dripping with Dean's blood. She grabs Dean's upper arm and pulls him back into a sitting position against the wall...

"Hey. Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey. Hey."

Dean's eyes shoot open as the warehouse starts to shake. Lydia then remembers Metatron and grabs the angel blade going to stab him with the blade, but he disappears and appears in his heavenly office in front of Castiel who is sitting in his chair...

~~~

"Well played, Castiel. Obviously, you and Gadreel managed to turn a few dead-enders against me." He said looking at Castiel with a bit of a puzzled expression but not questioning.

"Gadreel is dead."

"Ah. So Gadreel bites the dust. And the Angel tablet -- arguably the most powerful instrument in the history of the universe -- is in pieces, and for what again? Oh, that's right -- to save Dean Winchester. That was your goal, right? I mean, you draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human, right? Well, guess what. He's dead, too." Castiel's horrified eyes shoot to Metatron's face.

"And you're sitting in my chair." He swiftly handcuffs Castiel to the chair with a single thought.

~~~

Lydia is trying desperately to press the cloth to her boyfriend's gaping chest wound, Dean struggles to talk...

"Lydia, you gotta get out of here before he comes back." He said with little strength, "Shh. Shh. Shh. Shh. It's okay. Just save your energy, we'll stop the bleeding. We'll -- we'll get you a doctor or -- or we'll find a spell. You're gonna be okay." She said with tears, caressing his face. She took his hand and pressed it to his chest to keep the cloth in place.

"Listen to me. It's better this way."

"What?!" She couldn't believe what he was saying, "The Mark. It's making me into something I don't want to be." He gasped between his sentences.

"Don't worry about the Mark, not now, we're gonna get you some help. Please, Dean." The banshee pulled her hunter's arm over her shoulder, grabbing him around the waist before she hauls him up as best as she can making Dean moan in agony.

~~~

"You will never get away with this."

"Get away with what? You told a silly story to a group of less-than-believers. I'll clean up your mess in an hour.." Metatron sighed, "You give our brothers and sisters far too little credit. They will soon learn that you have been playing them." Castiel threatened.