Swollen vision directed the vehicle towards the "driveway" of the Bunker. In that moment you wished nothing more than to turn around a leave. To forget the whole ordeal and just leave. Eyes looked into the rear view mirror. Only instead of seeing the back view of the car, the mirror was positioned to look directly at your own face. Covered in bruises with a swollen eye...
*Five Hours Earlier*
"I told you not to fucking talk to him. What do you do? Your bitch ass calls him." Your boyfriend yelled so loudly it shook the pictures on the walls.
"Cas is family to me, Derek. He's been apart of my family for years. Not that you would ever understand that concept, your heads too far up your ass!" In the same loud tone you screamed back at him. You weren't as surprised as you should've been when you went flying backwards against the wall with the small kiss of his strong fist.
The impact stunned you for a minute, causing you to regain complete balance before standing up. With a plan in mind you balled up your own fish and hit him just as hard, if not harder, than he had hit you.
"If you ever fucking touch me again, I'll kill you." You had your brothers temper. And wouldn't tolerate anybody's shit. Being a Winchester had it's temporary perks.
In one step he was face to face with you, one arm turned you around so your back was now facing him. While the other wrapped tightly around your neck like a boa constrictor. Your own hands reached up, straining to pull his firm arm off of your neck, but you found absolutely no luck.
Deep strained wheezes came from your tightened throat, with a bright red face to match the look. Now he was lifting you off the ground with the grip he had around your neck. Instinct began to cause you to kick your feet trying to break free. But it wasn't until he threw you against he wall with the release of his arm that you were finally able to breathe.
*now*
Dean would have a field day when he caught glimpse of your injuries. Hell, waking him up at four in the morning was bad enough. Especially unannounced. You'd be lucky if him not Sam shot you thinking you were an intruder. Which technically you were, seeing as you'd moved out a few months back.
Your right hand reached forward, flipping the head lights off and then turning the key in the ignition. Silencing everything around you except your shaky breaths. Your hands fumbled together, the fear of your brothers reactions shook you to your core. How would they respond? More importantly, what would they do?
Your own knuckles were coated in an irritated red with slight yellowing on the inner circle of your knuckle.
*3 Hours Earlier*
He'd been asleep for no more than thirty minutes. Passing out just after he declared you needed to make him a sandwich when he woke up from his "anger detox nap".
The biggest part of you wanted to slit his throat right then and there. Watching his chest rise and fall, the only thing you could think about was stopping it permanently.
Just as you turned to leave the room to tend to your normal household duties, something shinning off of the light caught your eye. Making you stop and turn around...
*now*
Weak hands trailed lightly along the kitchen counter. There wasn't a speck of dirt to be found. Dean really was a neat freak when it came to his own home.
Everything was so quite. So peaceful and welcoming. Something you hadn't felt in the environment you'd just left. The light tapping of feet hitting the floor alerted you that your brothers were very much awake and very much aware somebody was here.
Two dark eyed and firm faced men rounded the corner, guns aimed at you. The second they saw you, the pair of them stopped dead in their tracks.
"Chels?What the hell happened to you?" Sam was nearly at a loss for words but somehow managed to speak. His hair being gently pushed behind his ear as he slowly approached you, jaw half dropped in shock.
"Did he do this?" Dean, however, had a different approach. "I swear to fucking-"
"Calm down, Dean." Fluff head encouraged your older brother with a hand extended in his direction, as if adding emphasis to his words.
"Are you- calm down? Our baby sister shows up, swollen black eyes, bruises around her neck, on her arms...and two bloody, possibly broken hands- and you want me to 'calm down'? I'm sorry have you met me?" Dean practically yelled without meaning to. Stopping when he realized your eyes were shut and your hands covered your ears.
"Please...no more yelling. I've had enough today to last me the rest of my life." You opened your eyes the best you could, only slightly. Dean's face was practically fuming with anger and the intent to commit a homicide. Sam seemed guilty, as though he shouldn't have prompted Dean to let you go live with Derek.
One of the two tall figures before you turned quickly, grabbing his keys off of the wall as he began to walk out of the kitchen.
"Dean, you don't need to do anything." You sighed in an expectant manner. There was no doubt this was how he was going to react to this.
His mouth opened, prepared to freak out. Like you were defending his jackass and his life.
"Guys sit down, let me explain..."
*One Hour Earlier*
In one hand you held the shiny lighter. Twirling it around your fingers. Like you were playing with his fate and he didn't even know it.
Without making a sound you'd managed to pour gas around the edges of the bed, being careful not to pour any directly on him and wake him up. Now you waited. Waited for your mind to pick a path to go down.
Nobody knew who you were, not your real name. Sure as hell didn't know your brothers. The thought of being caught didn't even sent a chill through your heart. Then-then it happened.
Your finger pressed down on the can of hairspray, directing it at his body. Instantly, he woke up, and realized what was happening. With the other hand you flicked on the lighter. A dead poker face rested on your features.
"Tell Crowley I said special delivery from a Winchester." With a soft motion a bright burning hot light formed in front of you.
*now*
"You Kentucky fried chickened his ass?" Your oldest brother had both eyebrows raised high. His voice almost equal in shock.
"There was no way in hell I was letting him walk, crawl, or be breathing out of there." You sat still as Sam tended to your wounds rub alcohol wipes while you spoke.
"You're going to have to lay low for a few months until this goes away." His hazel eyes looked to yours only for a split moment before returning to his work.
"Yeah." You spoke through your teeth, trying to block out the stinging pain.
Dean walked over to you, placing a kiss on the top of your head before heading back down the hall.
"Nurse Sam's got it from here. I'll be your bartender after I get some sleep and we can slowly mend your mental wounds, and outer ones." His hand raised with a flick as if waving.
"Bad circumstances or not, in glad you're back Chelsea." Sam huffed out quietly.
"Me too, Samsquatch. Me too."
