I Was No One Special

Warnings

Warnings: Language, Blood/violence, nightmares, guilt, Panic, ANGST like a mofo.

Word Count: 1874

A/N: I know it's been a while with this series, but I am super excited about where this is gonna go!

*Bolded parts indicate dream/vision world.* 

The tears are pouring out now, and try to catch my breath long enough to speak. "Dean.... I... I think. I think... I killed someone."

His hands fly up to the sides of my face, and he forces me to look at him, "Woah woah, hey, you don't know that." He continues to try and soothe me, "Everything is still pretty jumbled, and kinda incoherent. You said it yourself, you couldn't really make out anything specific in the visuals-"

"I was covered in blood, Dean!" I wish he was right, but there is a sinking feeling that what it looked like, was what it was. "I was covered in blood that wasn't mine." More tears stream down my reddened cheeks as I plead with him to understand the depth of what happened. "In that vision, in that audio, I could hear myself begging someone to not make me do it. What if that's what it is? What if I killed someone?It can't be a coincidence that I heard it all over again in the middle of all that."

He paces across the kitchen, running a hand through his now messy locks. "Dean..."

He shakes his head, "No, No we're gonna figure this out. There has be some explanation."

His tired eyes meet mine and for just a moment the world stops. The man standing there staring back at me is the man that has given everything to keep me safe, no, to make me feel safe, the man that drops everything and comes running when I have a nightmare, or simply need something to eat or drink-the one that makes me laugh at the silliest thing to get my mind off of everything for a minute. That's who is with me. I need reminding of that from time to time. I need those moments to bring me back to reality, to ground me, to let me know that I am still here. Not the moments when he finds me scared and shaking in my own bed, no, it's the quiet moments where not a word has to be uttered.

Heavy footsteps echo through the kitchen as he approaches me once more. He shifts my leg to the side so that he can stand between them. For a few beats he says nothing, just continues to look down at me with those olive eyes. His hand slowly raises from my thigh and his lip curves up ever so slightly. It catches me off guard, but just as I open my mouth to speak ,his pinky sticks out, and I can't help but smile. He remembers. He remembers that story I told him not long after they found me. That night I told him that as a little kid I used to make everyone pinky promise for everything.

His gaze flickers down to his hand, then to back to my eyes, "Come on. Don't leave me hanging here." I raise my hand and lock my pinky with his, letting out a small chuckle at the sight of the big bad Dean Winchester wanting to pinky promise. "We'll find a way. We will."

"I know." I say wrapping my arms around his neck as my head falls against his shoulder. He runs his hands up and down my back as I relax into his touch.

With everything going on, I've had little time to think about how good his hands feel on my skin, about his warm scent, or the way his lips look so pillowy soft. Oh for christ's sake this is not the time for that Y/N. Good lord, pull yourself together. That's the last thing we need right now. No falling for your... your... whatever he is.

"Hey, You okay Y/N?"

My eyes snap open, "Yea... I uh... Just tired. I feel like no matter how much I sleep, I never actually get any rest, you know."

His eyes narrow, and I know he doesn't quite buy it, but luckily he chooses to ignore it. "Alright, let's go." He says lifting me from the counter and begins walking down the hall.