Falling Hard (Dean x Reader) / On Hiatus

Chapter 5

You wake up to the sunlight streaming in through the window. You rub your eyes a few times and let it adjust to the light while you take in your surroundings. Why am I in- You don't need to finish the thought before you remember everything. You smile to yourself, then instinctively pat the spot next to you. The smile fades as you realize Dean was gone. You place your hand on Dean's spot again. Cold. He's been gone for long and he hasn't told me anything? You scratch your head thoughtfully before realizing your hair is an absolute mess. You pat it down for now, and stand up, shaking off the blankets. You feel cold, so you search Dean's drawers for a flannel. You like stealing his flannel. In fact, you already had three of his in your room right now. You are digging around in the fourth drawer when your hand hits something solid. You fish it out, patting his shirts back down afterward. It was a dusty gold picture frame, engraved with your names. You turn it over to find a picture of you and Dean, smiling in the sun. Behind you were a few other people, some barbecues, umbrellas and towels. You were at the beach. You look at it for a moment, then turn it over again. W-where is this from? I don't remember this... was it before my... accident? You look closer at the photo, then the frame, looking for something. You slide the photo out a bit, checking the corners. Bingo. There, in the top right corner, reads 2017. You just stare at it in shock as you slide the photo back in the frame. You decide to take the photo with you as you finally find his flannel. You put the flannel on and take the picture back to your room, planning on showing Dean later. You sit down on your bed, still holding the photo. This is evidence. Real evidence of my life before my new life. But with Dean? This is getting real weird. You set the photo down beside you on the bed and get up. You want to check all the pockets of Dean's flannel, see if there's anything else. You are sorting through your drawers when you find a bunch of other clothes. You pick a sweater out of the bunch and put it on. It fit perfectly. W-were these my old clothes? And... w-was this my old room? You just look up at the ceiling, wondering how things could be like this. I know I felt SOME sort of familiarity when I first entered this room, but... You are just amazed. Amazed that everything was some sort of coincidence. You want to tell Dean, but feel conflicted. If I lived here before, with Dean, he probably already knows. But then again... You recall what he said when you first met. Something about... ah I remember. You roll your eyes at your thought. At least I can remember SOMETHING. You are feeling bad about yourself and the dream, but distract yourself. He said 'Well, to tell ya the truth, I have NO idea why I'm here either.' Which means.... You are more confused than you have ever been in your life. Well, your short, new life. Does he not remember? God, what is up with this whole situation!?! This is unbelievably messed up. You shake your head and snap out of it, slipping the sweater off. You decide you like the sweater and put it in your primary drawer. You keep digging through the drawer, looking for clothes you like. You stick your hand in and fish around in the back, not really looking for anything in particular when you hit something solid. You stop for a moment, then go back. You fumble around for a bit, trying to get a grip on the item, then pull it out. It was a cracked cell phone. Like, seriously cracked. This looks so bad like it was run over a truck, and then the truck backed up and ran over it again. You silently laugh at your own joke, then try the power button. It beeps to life, and a logo flashes over the screen. You aren't experienced in the area, but you can tell that it was a REALLY old phone. Why the hell would I keep a piece of junk like this?  It already is taking quite a bit of time to load, and you nearly toss it aside when the lock screen appears. You look hopeful as you tilt the screen to face you, and nearly scream. Shit, this phone needs a PASSWORD?!?! You glare at the phone, half expecting it to burst in flames in the intensity of your gaze. Thankfully, it doesn't. You want to toss it aside, put it where it'll never be found, but you want to try and open it. You swipe up, revealing the password screen. It's a PIN. Not bad... I guess I'll just have to do a bit of experimenting. You prepare yourself for hours of guessing, but as soon as your finger hits the screen, you automatically know what numbers to press. It is like an instinct. A reflex. And you like it. Soon the phone is open, and coincidentally, the home screen is the same picture Dean had in his drawer. The background triggers you to tap on the photos app first, wanting to know what other photos you had taken. You want background. You want to find out more about your past self. You are immensely disappointed when you only see two pictures. One of them being the 2017 beach photo. In fact, you had seen it so many times, you have it memorized. You tap on the other picture beside it, and it enlarges to fit the screen. It is a picture of you, holding some sort of knife. You were smiling widely and as you enlarged the photo even further, you could see some sort of engraving on the handle. You try to zoom in but it won't let you. You sigh and look closer. Dean was in the background, holding something. And suddenly, you have a memory.