New Beginnings (JensenXReader)

Days Turn Into Weeks Turn Into Months

So weak.

So helpless..

So hopeless...

It's been three months of this nightmare. David has ripped at you, cut you, slapped you, raped you, anything horrible he's probably done.

You haven't seen your husband in three months. You haven't had him hold you in his arms and silence your cries as you feel weak. You haven't heard your daughters laugh or see her beautiful smile. Your friends are so much as a blur from the amounts of head blows that David had given you. Life was fuzzy when you closed your eyes. You've learned to live with your eyes open 24/7 as the dark has become a trap of your nightmares.

Right now, you lay leaning your back against the wall with your bum on the floor, the ever so cold and numbing floor.

Your legs are scratched from the blind walking David made you do. Your legs are blue and purple from David's tight hold matching your blistering ankles from being cuffed to the bed.

Your torso was bare, besides your oh so thin bra. Your stomach is a now a valley of red hickies, old and fresh. It stings with every breath you take.

Your arms are numb and have lost the strength they once held and the softness they once felt. Your arms have endured too many injections to feel anymore. Your nails were cracked, covered in dried blood, and scratched as they mark down another line to keep track of the passing days.

Your neck is wrapped in a belt of blue and purple bruises that sting whenever you swallow down your dry throat.

Your head and face look almost unrecognizable, well from what you can guess. You haven't seen what your face looks like since the day you were taken, three months ago. Your cheek bones were visibly noticeable and your lips were chapped, cracked, and covered in dry blood.

Your eyes were lifeless. The shine was gone and the will to live seemed lost. Those beautiful (eye color) eyes were just dull.

Your mind and heart were the only two things keeping you going. Your mind allowed you to relive lost memories from far in your past. Now your heart, well, it was still pumping and still madly in love with Jensen and your daughter.

You had the feeling people were looking for you, well you hoped. You hoped that one day soon, that Jensen and Matt would come crashing through that cold metal door and wrap your frail body in their strong, warm arms.

**********

3rd Person POV ~ A week after being Kidnapped

"She should have texted or called or sent a letter or just- just something by now." Jensen moved around the kitchen trying to control his anger. It has been a week since (Y/n) ran off saying that she would be back in a few days, maybe. Jensen had saw the maybe but never cared to register it. He wanted her home, to make emends, and help her through all of the pain she was dealing with.

"Jay, dude, you gotta calm down. She's probably just hanging low in some hotel. She'll be back, I think I know my sister. She wouldn't run away from her family." Matt spoke with calmness, hoping to relax Jensen down a bit. "No, I- I gotta know that she is okay. What if something is wrong, huh? And we are just here, sitting with our thumbs up our asses. I know she's your sister, but she is my wife. I know everything about her and I can sense when something is not fucking right. We need to find her, NOW!" Jensen slammed his hands flat on the table and laid his forehead on the marble counter top.