Unwanted (Dean x Suicidal Reader)

Chapter 3 - End

Your P.O.V

You really weren't sure why you spent the rest of the day locked in your room, crying. But really. I can't believe our relationship, I thought being built off of love and trust, actually all being fake. At the thought of Dean actually not really loving you, fresh tears spring to your eyes. God, there's no way life could be worse. Until you hear the knocking. And it gets worse. And a voice speaks up.

"Come on, y/n. Open up. It's me." You can pick out the wear and sadness in Dean's voice immediately, and it only makes you feel worse. You reach out to the doorknob, wanting to see his face, but then remember the bitter words that the shifter had said. You turn, your back facing the door now, crying on the bed.

"Y/n, you know you can talk to me about anything. If there's something wrong, just tell me." the voice comes through the door again, breaking at the last word, but only silence came in response. You taste the salty tears in your mouth, and you look up to the ceiling, wondering Why? Why couldn't he have just told me? Why did I have to find out through a SHIFTER? You lower your eyes, but look back up when your eyes skim over an object. At the sight, tears explode from your eyes again. It was your 10 year anniversary as girlfriend and boyfriend. You gingerly pick it up, your waterworks stopping for once, as you take in the sight of your beaming face. You were snuggled on Dean's shoulder, only happiness evident in your eyes. Dean was a mirror of your excitement, his face beaming. You whimper sadly as you trace your fingertip on his face, wishing, wondering what had gone wrong. What have I done to deserve this? You were never one of self-pity, but right now you couldn't help it. You look down at the photo again, half wanting to throw it at a wall, half wanting to break down crying. You stare at the photo for a long time, resisting the urge to move or do anything, just waiting, as the tears dry on your cheeks. Then, you heard hushed, urgent voices outside your door. You look up to the noise, then set the photo back down carefully. You step slowly towards the door, straining your ears but also trying to make as little noise as possible. Soon enough, you are able to get yourself pressed to the door. You start to listen to the hushed voices. You can barely make out the words, but you pick up pieces.

"I just... I wish we hadn't brought her on the hunt. I wish we hadn't found her in the first place. ........ I wish she were dead. .......... ............... She's slumping around everywhere, and she's like dead weight. Plus, I really want to tell her something." There's a pause, and your breath hitches in your throat as you wait for the hurtful words to come out of his mouth. You know what they are. You just need to hear them from him.

"I.. I don't want to be her boyfriend anymore." That's all that you need to hear. You crumple to the floor, letting your tears free-fall as your heart is split into two. I can't believe it. Why? Why? The question repeats in your head and you make a split second decision. I know it now. I'm unwanted. You groggily pick yourself up, and grab the knife lying on your nightstand. You plop down on the bed, the knife poised above your skin. You let out a shaky breath before digging the blade into your skin. The pain comes just as quick as the blood does, flowing down your arm. You steady the blade to dig in again, when a hand on your arm stops you. You look up to see Dean's pained eyes. 

"Please. Don't do it." You choke out a sob at the sound of his voice, but drop the knife. He smiles at you, and kneels down so you are level with each other. He gives another sad smile, and you match his. He takes your hands in his, and he gazes in your eyes.

"You don't need to do this. Just talk to me. I'll always be here for you. Just please. Don't do this." he says, and you nod sadly. He sweeps you in his arms, wrapping you in a hug. You forget all the pain, sadness and anger in his presence, only happy to be in his arms again. You pull away, and he cups your face in his hand. You close your eyes, focusing only on his touch, the sound of his voice, happy to be with him again.