esoteric ↯ dean winchester x reader

x.

  "I'm-um-" You had no idea what had happened. It scared you, you had never done anything like this. There had been times when you didn't understand how strong you were, or how high your pain tolerance was but you never saw your hand glow.

But now, as that man stared at you it was a chance to start all over. To let him go. He could live his life free of you. So thats exactly what you did.

"I'm the girl who found you on the street in front of where I work. You were jumped and knocked unconscious." You told him, "The doctor said you'd be experiencing some short term amnesia."

"Oh." Matt rubbed his head, looking you up and down.

"Do you remember your name? Birthday? Parents name?" You asked, trying to make sure you didn't erase anything else.

"Matt Tonesend. February 24th. Monica and Steven Tonesend." He recalled and you let out a small sigh. He shifted and looked at you strangely, "Thank you for bringing me in. Is there anything I can do to repay you?"

"Get better soon." You said, then left the room quickly. Your skin crawled with a new feeling you had never experienced. There was a certain power and absence in you.

You decided to take a walk before going back to your car. You tried to see if you could do anything else, you felt like Spiderman or whatever finding out you had abilities for the first time. But nothing really happened. You couldn't just turn anything on for no reason. You had no structure, no real motivation, no guidance. So you gave up soon and ran back to the car.

You felt so horrible for what had happened. That man was going to be in that hospital lost and confused as to how he made it all the way to North Dakota. But it was for the best, you knew Matt. He was persistent. He wasn't going to give up or he was going to keep hurting over you. Maybe this wasn't better, but it was easier.

~

You drove back to the roadhouse in your beat up clunker. You knew how the conversation with your boss was going to go and you weren't excited in the slightest. Walking in you heard Dean again, singing karaoke terribly to Imaginary Lover and drinking very heavily.

The crowd of people were yelling the usuals: Tone deaf! Awful! Enough! Turn it off! There was practically a riot to get him off stage again.

"You all suck." Dean said into the mic. You rolled your eyes, done with guys forever. Swearing them off, tired of hurting them and hurting you in the process.

Your boss practically tackled you at the door.

"Don't even think about it." She said, "I don't know what kind of joint you think this is, but it ain't one that tolerates workers who are lazy, show up late, and bring their personal drama to work. Especially not all in one day."

I listened but found it hard to keep a straight face. Security came to remove Dean from the stage and Dean pushed him off, and began to wrestle with him. At first it was funny, considering he was too drunk to even find his face, then Dean knocked him out.

"Please, Lana, I'm sorry. I wasn't planning on any of this. That guy that came-" you tried to beg for your job.

"I don't care, sweetheart. I liked you. You had fire and potential, but I can't deal with the drama." Lana didn't care. Dean showed up next to her,

"Is she causing you trouble?" Dean asked you, pointing to Lana.

"No, Dean. It's fine just go." You said, rolling your eyes. When you looked at him for a minute, he looked Lana up and down, clenching his fist. You couldn't tell what was wrong with him, but his anger radiated off him. You didn't just see his pupils dilate but his face was morphed and dark and it scared you.

Dean rolled his shoulders back and two guys had come up to try and kick him out but he started beating them up. He threw them against walls with almost no effort. He dropped one of them on a table and it broke.

"Dean!" You yelled, you had no idea what was in him. Then you started to think what if one of the things he hunted had got to him. But whatever he was, you didn't recognize him.

He scoffed at you and sat down, watching you handle your boss.

"I want you out by tomorrow morning, he's being kicked out tonight. No motel room, no last pay check. Get him out of here." She said through gritted teeth then left. You breathed out your own frustration. Dean looked amused.

"You heard her. Take me home." He winked. You grabbed his forearms and ripped him out of his seat and out the door. It didn't last for long as he ended up passing out from his large alcohol consumption. So you had to carry him back to your room.

~

Dean woke up in your bed, still hammered, and you were there to hand him a glass of water.

"Drink, tough guy." You said, trying to take care of him.

"Nah, I'm good." He grumbled, pushing the water away.

"Your funeral." You shrugged, putting it on the nightstand.

"Mm." He was staring at you. You couldn't tell why, lately you didn't understand a thing he did.

"What?" You asked, keeping your guard up.

"Let's go somewhere, you and me." He smiled.

"We are somewhere." You said turning around to go sit on the couch but he grabbed your wrist. His hand was so rough and cold, the way it had been before.

"No. Somewhere else." He pulled you down onto the bed, he somehow knew all the places to arouse in you.

"Nice offer, but we barely know each other. You just got me fired. And you're drunk." You gave the reasons why its reasonable to stay away from him.

"Yeah, but, uh... I-I protected your honor, didn't I?" Dean breathed onto your neck. When you contained your response he leaned back a bit and ran a hand through his hair.

"Yeah. I thought so, too. Seeing you take on Matt, I was like, 'wow, no one's ever done that for me before.'" You admitted to him, and he smiled, actually proud of himself. "But then you kept going and going, and I realized whatever is going on with you has nothing to do with my "honor" at all."

"Hm. You got all that from a bar fight? Wow. You're good." He sighed, his mood shifting as he backed away from you.

"That's my job. I wait tables at bars all over the country, and knock down doors to bring real criminals who skipped their court dates. I meet the bad guys. I meet the good guys. And maybe for a second there, I thought you were a good guy playing bad. I don't know. It doesn't matter. Maybe you're just --" You were rambling a bit, but Dean wasn't happy anymore. Suddenly he had sobered up quicker than you expected.

"The kind of guy who sleeps with every skank in every small-town dive that he passes through?" He put so much emphasis on the words, the insults slipped off his tongue. "Well, you really do know how to read people, 'cause that sure as hell sounds like me."

"Charming. But, no, I don't think so." You said, feeling the insults but deciding not to let them bother you, "I think you're a guy who's seen a whole lot of crap in his day, maybe 99% of it crap. So you became the crap you see... because monkey see, monkey do."

"Was that supposed to be clever?" He asked, annoyed. He looked at you with dead eyes.

"What happened to you?" You looked at him, didn't care about what he thought and just really looked at him. It wasn't like when you were staring at the ceiling and having sex, this was face to face.

"Oh, angel, you don't wanna know."