Supernatural Oneshots

Screw you, Winchester

Warning: Odd warning for this one, violence, mention of blood and somewhat self-harm but not quite more like self-sacrifice but not really. Anyway, don't do anything mentioned in this chapter because it will land you in the hospital and I truly care for everyone so pls talk to someone if you have any urges to do any of the stuff mentioned. Okay enjoy? (I was in a weird mood writing this so it's a bit sloppy okay read).

"I know we're all stressed, but Dean is acting really out of character, got any idea about what's up with him?" I ask Sam as we sit in the library.

I look up at Sam from my book and he nods, his eyes glancing up at me as he replies, "Just a bit, but if he says he's fine, he's fine." 

I shake my head slightly and push my chair out from the table and head towards Dean's room and knock on the door lightly, hoping for some sort of answer. I get no verbal response so I test the door, it's unlocked which is a good sign. 

I push the door open slightly, hoping to see Dean sleeping or doing something on his computer, that's ideally not watching porn, but all I see is Dean, laying down on the bed on his back, headphones on and his chest heaving. I tilt my head as I call out to him. He doesn't respond and I drop my shoulders, heading across the room and sitting on the end of the bed. 

He opens his eyes in shock and grabs his gun, pointing it at me as I raise my hands quickly and stand up, backing away from frightened Dean. He takes a breath and puts his gun back under his pillow and removes his headphones.

"Hey Y/N, what's up?" Dean asks putting his headphones on the bed next to him as I take a seat at the end of his bed once again, this time without a gun being pointed at my head. 

"You aren't acting normal Dean, what's wrong?" I ask softly. 

Dean shrugs, "Nothing, I swear." 

I give him a glare and he glares right back at me. 

"I swear nothing's wrong Y/N, stop worrying about me!" Dean exclaims, slightly louder than his previous statements.

"Dean, sweetheart, it's my job to worry about you, you'd die otherwise," I say softly, not wanting to anger Dean anymore or make the conversation about me.

"All you care about is having people around you so you can be happy!" Dean shouts at me.

I stare at him in shock, "Dean, that's not what I meant, you know I care about you." 

"No you don't, no one really does, you just want me alive for your benefit, that's all, why would you care?" Dean says a little quieter, but still almost shouting. 

"Because you, I, shit, how do I word this," I say to myself. 

"You don't word it," Dean mutters.

I roll my eyes and think for a second before speaking again, "Listen to me Dean, you are swigging alcohol left, right and centre, it's not healthy, you're going to die from alcohol poisoning and that's no way to die, you aren't happy, you aren't yourself and it's not helping that you're blocking us out, we care about you Dean, I worry about you whenever I notice you aren't yourself, I need you to be yourself." 

"See! You need me to be happy! You all need me to be happy! You're perfectly happy with me around but guess what, when I die, you'll be moping around cursing yourself for not being able to keep me from dying because that's all I am, just a happiness machine," Dean spits.

"Who ever said I was happy! Who ever said that Dean, you aren't happy, I'm not happy, I doubt Sam is happy if we're going based off our lives, Hell Cas might not even be happy, but what makes you think that I'm happy, not all of us rely on others to keep us happy Dean," I say and put a hand up to silence him as I continue. "And for fucks sake Dean, I worry about you because I care for you and want you to live a happy life, I'm doing my fucking best to keep you happy because I hate seeing you like this okay?"