Supernatural One Shots

Daddy Issues (DS/DM)

Pairing: Father!Dean x son/daughter!Reader

Warnings: cursing, mentions of depression, abuse, serious injury

Other: Set after Sam cures Dean of the Mark of Cain and during the Deanmon days. 

Words: 1097

Age: 16

You hadn't been happy for awhile. 

It started when your father, Dean, received the Mark of Cain from Cain himself. Before the mark, he'd always been rough around the edges, but he still cared for you and made sure to show it. Now, with the mark, he had been more isolated, colder, meaner. You two would get into screaming matches over anything and everything. 

You could remember when Dean died, the image of his blood staining your hands as you cried over his lifeless body still fresh in your mind. Days and weeks passed where you weren't the same. You didn't have your dad there and it killed you, no matter how much you tried to hide it. 

"Come on, (Y/n), you know I just want to see my (son/daughter) again," You hear Deanmon's voice ring out through the bunker. After finding him, your Uncle Sam had locked him up in the Bunker's dungeon, prepared to begin working on curing Dean. 

However, like most things in your life, the plan had fallen through the floor with Dean escaping. Thankfully, Sam had shut the Bunker down, making sure Dean couldn't leave. You had been in your room, staring at the ceiling as depression ate away at your soul and listening to music when the lights went out before the emergency ones came on, dusting everything in a red glow. Walking out to see what was going on, you instead walk out to hear the voice of your father calling out to you. Now, you stand frozen in shock, eyes wide, heart hammering in your chest. 

Deanmon chuckles darkly, sounding a bit closer now. "Man, I can't even say that with a straight face," This causes your heart to drop, pain seeping into your marred soul. "We can agree that I never cared about you, you were a mistake," 

Without your permission, tears well up in your eyes, each word stabbing through you. Secretly you did think that Dean hadn't cared about you, it kept you up at night. It was no secret that he never wanted or needed a kid. Your mom was just a one night stand who just happened to die by a werewolf when you were a kid. After being taken by the said werewolf, you were raised to be bait to lure mortals to your 'family'. Soon, you had forgotten your mother, never knowing your father, and years later were found by Sam and Dean after you attempted to lure them out. They took you in and Garth was the one to find your records and birth certificate. 

"What's wrong? Demon got your tongue?" Deanmon's voice was close, too close. As you were daydreaming, Deanmon managed to find you, now standing in front of your shaking frame.
A yelp escapes from your throat as you quickly jump back into your room. Clenched in his hand is a metal baseball bat, the tool slamming against your door as your fight to slam it shut. However, his foot kicks out and blocks the doorway. Shoving his way in, causing you to fall, Deanmon's figure looms over you, his smirk dark and cruel. 

"God, you're more pathetic and weak than I thought," He snarls, stepping closer as you quickly scoot back until your back presses against your bedside table.
"Dad, this isn't you!" You screamed, trying to snap him out of it, even if only for a moment.
"Yes it is, just improved. You and Sammy think I need you two to save me, but I don't want to be saved. Like this, I don't have to deal with you two whining brats. I always have to save your asses out of the fire, well I should just let you burn. Better yet, be the one to torch you," Deanmon growls, raising the bat over his head before bringing it down. 

A blood-curdling scream falls from your mouth as it connects with your left arm in which you'd instinctively raised to protect the head. Feeling the bone shatter, you cradle your arm to your chest, still gasping in pain with a clouded head and tears blurring your vision. Faintly, your ears register the sound of your Uncle Sam's voice screaming Dean's name. 

The light from the hallway shines over you once more as Sam grabs Dean and jerks him by his collar into the hall. From there, Castiel appears behind him and grabs him, healing him with a flash of light. Knowing Cass could handle it from there, Sam dodges into your room, slamming the door shut behind him. 

"It...hurts," You cry out in ragged breaths, lying on your side, still holding your arm gently but protectively to your torso. Sam runs over, kneeling beside you, and begins gently stroking your right shoulder, talking to you gently. 
"Hey, it'll be okay. Dean's back, this wasn't him. You gotta let me look at it, kid," He coaxes, gently prying your hurt arm from your fetal position. He winces at the damage, knowing it would take months of physical therapy to get it back to normal. Thankfully, you guys had an angel on hand. 

Sending a quick prayer the angel's way, it isn't long before the sound of wings and footsteps approach behind Sam's crouched form. 

"Dean has been informed of what is happening, he is currently in his room," Cas' tough voice reaches your ears, black spots dancing in your vision. Finally, the pain is just too much and your eyes slip closed. Noticing this, Sam quickly checks your pulse to see how fast it is. Once he's sure you didn't go into shock, he moves back as Cas takes his place. 
A quick touch to your forehead fixes the wound easily, leaving nothing behind to show that it was even there. Your breathing had also slowed down, leaving you to sleep peacefully. 

Gently, Sam picked you up and lay you in bed, covering you before he and Castiel walk out. He sends one last worried look over his shoulder before closing the door behind them. You sure did have daddy issues, but this was one issue he wasn't sure you could overcome. 

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This one was kind of all over the place but at least I got it done. Thank you all for reading, requests are open, and remember:

~We will Avenge and Prevail, we are the Fallen Angels~

-TheHumanExperiment1