I've got you, Sweetheart

Part 3

                  The week for Dean has passed by after continuously taking care of you. He had checked you out of the hospital and brought you back to the bunker. He had carried you into the library, where everyone was spending their time. All of their eyes trailed over towards you as Dean settled you into one of the comfy chairs in the room. Once you were settled, he crouched down in front of you. "Is there anything you want, sweetheart?" He asked you. He had spent a little bit of time each day through out the week in the hospital trying to get you to say words that were simple. You always struggled, but he knew what you were trying to say. "Are you cold?"

All you could do was slowly nod your head yes to answer his question as you shivered. You opened your mouth to speak, "Ju-.." you were trying to say the word, 'Juice', but you found yourself struggling all over again. "Ju-.." You tried once again, but failed. You could feel tears pricking at your eyes as you balled your hand into fists again. Your brain still hurt. The words you had learned throughout the years growing up were now jumbled up in your mind, making it harder for you to speak.

Tears streamed down your face and Dean's face fell into a saddened expression as he reached a hand to your face, wiping away the tears with the pad of his thumb before his hand dropped down to hold your own. "Oh, baby.. it's okay." He reassured you. You were doing just fine. But he knew that the frustration of not being able to speak properly was what was making you emotional. Luckily, he knew what you were trying to say. "You want juice?" He asked. You slowly nodded your head yes again. "Okay, I will go get you some juice and a warm blanket. And then I will come back and I will hold you."

You didn't respond to what he said. You just stared past him and to the other side of the library. Dean gave your hand a gentle squeeze before he let go and got onto his feet. He left the library and headed for the kitchen, where he had gotten your favorite kind of juice from the fridge. He then made his way over to one of the cabinets and opened it up, searching through it for the straws.

As he was doing so, he could hear footsteps behind him. He turned his head to see that his mother was standing there, a concerned look on her face. "How are you holding up, honey?" She asked her son, making her way up to him and rubbing his back in a comforting way. "I know this must be hard."

Dean finally got to the package of straws and took one out, plopping it right into the bottle of juice as he let out a sigh. He didn't realize he was crying until he sniffled. "Not too great." He mumbled underneath his breath. He felt as though it was his fault you were in this situation. He wanted to take your pain away, he wanted to take your damaged brain and switch it with his for however long it takes to heal. "I shouldn't have left her there all by herself, mom. I should've stayed. Or I should've just taken her with me to the cops." Dean's jaw tightened as he found himself growing angry with himself. His hand balled up into a fist and he pounded onto the counter. "God, I'm so stupid!"

Dean couldn't help himself. He slammed the cabinet shut. But when it opened back up again from how hard he pushed onto it, he found himself beating at it, heart wrenching sobs wracked through his whole body as his mother pulled him back, into a tight hug. She shushed her son as they both fell to the floor with him in her arms. "You are not stupid!" She told her son. "You did what you thought was right and I know that deep down-.. Y/N would be proud. She's so lucky to have you. This will get better, sweetheart, I promise you."

The sobs that were escaping Dean slowly came to a calming point. He just stared at the cabinets below the counter as tears just rolled down his face. He was tired of spending his nights hating himself over the situation you were now being put through. All that came out of his mouth was one word turned into a question. "When?"

Mary shrugged her shoulders at his question. "I don't know." She admitted. She wanted to give her son a piece of advice that would help himself get through this and hopefully something he can pass on to you when you start to question things. "But everything takes time. And time is what helps people heal."