Supernatural OneShots

Coldest Day of My Life (Dean's POV)

(A/N) Warning: tearjerker

Dean's POV

We were hunting when it happened. We had the upper hand. I was still wrestling a shifter, while Ally and Sam had just killed two. One of the shifters came out of nowhere, with one of our guns. Sam saw the whole thing. Apparently, the guy was aiming for me, and I was too busy with the other shifter to notice. Sam was ready to fight when the guy fired the gun. I had heard Ally yell "NO!" I never felt the bullet; I thought it bounced off of something, and didn't hit anyone. Sammy tackled the shifter that fired, a moment later, then I saw her. Ally, clutching the side of her stomach, with blood oozing between her fingers. Something snapped inside me, the adrenaline pumping through my veins intensively.

I sliced the shifter I was wrestling into pieces before he could even register what was happening. I scrambled up quickly, and pushed Sam out of the way, filling the shifter's body with silver bullets. I dropped my gun as soon as the shifter was proven dead, and rushed to Ally's side, catching her before she could fall.

She was trembling and gasping in my arms, struggling to hold on, one hand gripping mine while the other was clutching my jacket. She had tried to say my name; I saw her mouth forming the letters.  I had whispered, my eyes threatening to let the tears fall, "C'mon...c'mon, Als...Ally, stay with us...stay with me...please..."

She watched me with those gorgeous brown eyes, her fingers squeezing mine as hard as she could at the time. Sam was keeping her comfortable, her head rested in his lap so she could see both of us. We knew we couldn't do anything to help her. I whispered, the tears spilling out one after the other, "I'm sorry, sweetheart...I'm so sorry...please Als...please don't leave me..."

I hadn't realized what I'd said, but Sam did; he told me to keep going, to tell Ally more. To keep her calm. I said, "Als, you've...been such a wonderful person...an amazing part of our team...we're both extremely grateful that you stayed with us as long as you could..." Sam shook his head a little, as he said, "Enough of the 'us'...tell her what you really want to say...Dean, I know she wants to hear it, believe me."

That has shocked me, because, for one, apparently she had told Sam everything, and two, Sam knew I liked her. I never said it, never mentioned anything about my feelings towards her. Of course, on the inside, every time I was around her, I had to fight the urge to wrap my arms around her, and kiss her. And it almost happened. A few times actually.

Ally's eyes seemed to have been searching mine for the answer to all her problems, her dying wish. I lean down a bit more, twirling a piece of her pastel pink hair, my lips against her ear, whispering, "I should've told you before, but...I like you, Ally...well...I love you actually...and I'm sorry that I was too much of a chicken to tell you...I'm going to bring you back somehow...I promise..."

Her hand came up to my neck, then crawled into my shirt, and tapped my tattoo weakly. Her head shook a little, then I understood what she was trying to tell me. I said with a small smile, "No sweetheart, no demon deals." Then her hand cupped my cheek, her breathing had slowed almost to a stop. I took her hand in mine gently, and kissed her knuckles, breathing another 'I love you' to her. I saw her smile after that. She was in pain, but somehow I had made her happy, amidst that. Her hand gave one last squeeze, then she let go.

I held her for the longest time after that, my tears soaked her hair, clothes, and her face. I took off her whale tail necklace, and slipped my amulet around her neck, then slid her necklace on myself. I knew how much she loved my necklace. I want her to be able to find her way back. If she wakes up with my necklace around her neck, she'll know that what happened was real. She'll find me again. She would always fiddle with it when I held her close to me for her protection. She used to tremble a bit, and clutch my jacket at first. Then when I taught her how to defend herself, she would cling to me less and less.  But every once in awhile, she'd reach for my hand, or grab the back of my jacket. I felt accomplished when I knew that she could protect herself. But I missed her clinging to me, needing my protection. She needed me. And I realized that I needed her.