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Last night was supposed to be the best night of your life- your one year anniversary with your boyfriend, Patrick. The two of you had always joked how it was fate that brought you together, and for a blink of an eye you thought that he could be the one. At least, until you showed up to his house for your anniversary. You could tell that he had been drinking. The more he drank the angrier he got at you for the little things: showing up five minutes late, not wearing his favorite dress, and of course, living with the Winchesters. He hated that you lived with two other guys and he hated how close you were to them. After drinking half a bottle of whiskey, Patrick finally snapped and hit you across the face multiple times. Crying, you ran out of his house and into your car as fast as you could, pulling away before Patrick decided to go for round two. Mascara ran down your face and you were nearly out of tissues as you pulled into the motel Dean was staying at. Ever since he became a demon, he had refused to step foot in the bunker for the fear that Sam would lock him in the dungeon. You pounded on the door, not caring who saw you at this point. Dean opened on the fourth knock and looked down at you. He pulled you into the motel room and into his protective embrace. Yes, he was a demon, but you felt safer in his arms than anyone else's. "Are you okay?" He asked, "Who did this to you." "I-I'm fine." You whimpered. "Patrick- he hit me." Dean held onto you tighter. When you had stopped crying, he led you over to the bathroom and cleaned up the few cuts and bruises that you had acquired before handing you one of his shirts. He grabbed his coat and opened the door, "Stay here. I'll be right back." Dean jumped into his impala and sped out of the parking lot and over to your ex-boyfriend's house. The only thing racing through Dean's mind was how he was going to make Patrick pay for hurting you. He had never been so pissed before. How could anyone ever hurt someone as pure and innocent as you? All Dean wanted to do was wrap his hands around Patrick's neck and hurt him more then he had hurt you, but he knew that you would eventually find out. And the last thing Dean wanted was for you to feel even worse about the situation. He hopped out of Baby and kicked Patrick's door down, inviting himself into his house. Dean's eyes scanned the room until they landed on Patrick sitting in front of the TV and drinking out of a bottle of whiskey. Dean stormed over to Patrick and grabbed him by the shirt, throwing him onto the floor. He smashed the bottle of whiskey against the wall, letting the contents spill onto his white, shaggy rug. "Who the hell are you?" Patrick asked. He looked at Dean closer before laughing, "That's right, you're one of the Winchesters. So, tell me, have you and Y/N been fu-" "Finish that sentence and I will rip your throat out." Dean cut off Patrick and slammed him against the wall. He threw a punch into Patrick's gut before letting his demon eyes show. "Now, if you ever try and contact Y/N again, I will personally drag you to Hell and watch you burn over and over again for eternity. And if you ever think about hitting Y/N or any other woman, I will carve you up and feed you to all the monsters you've heard about in the fairy tales." Patrick pointed at Dean's eyes. "Dude, what the hell?" Dean slammed Patrick against the wall, this time harder. "Am I clear?" Patrick feverishly nodded, and Dean threw his body on the floor, kicking it once more before he left. He hopped in his impala and sped home, hoping that you were still there. When he opened the door, Dean saw you staring at yourself in the mirror, lightly running your fingers over the bruises that had started forming. "Y/N," he said quietly, making you jump. You sighed in relief when you saw it was him. "You're back." Dean pulled you into his arms once again. "You don't have to worry about him any more. He won't bother you." "Did you kill him?" You asked, afraid he might say yes. "No," He whispered, relieving you. "But I really wanted to." "I'm glad that you didn't." You mumbled into his chest. "I know," Dean told you and picked you up. "That's why I didn't." Dean carried you over to the bed and set you down gently. He looked down at you in pain. "I'll take the floor." You reached out and grabbed his hand. "Please, stay here." He nodded and and laid down next to you. Dean wasn't going to make you ask twice. Carefully, he wrapped his arm around your waist and brought you to his chest. "Thank you," You felt yourself drifting off to sleep. Dean pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I won't let anyone ever hurt you again."
