Falling Hard (Dean x Reader) / On Hiatus

Chapter 7

Dean's P.O.V

At this point, she's completely broken down, and sobbing on the floor. I turn to look over y/n's shoulder at the picture. I nearly recoil in shock at what I see. It is a picture of me and y/n, and we appear to be at a beach. I slowly lower myself onto her bed, not really caring, and just take a moment to process. W-was y/n's old life.. HERE? Then why don't I remember any of it? N-no, this HAS to be a mistake. I look over at the picture again, ignoring the fact that the picture her makes my stomach tie in knots. That picture has to be fake... or that's a shifter. There's NO way that she had lived here and I can't remember any of it. I sigh, running my hands through my hair. I tear my eyes away from the photo and look around her room. Geez, this place is really fu- messed up. I am trying to cut down on my swear words. After all, last thing I want is to accidentally swear at or in front of y/n. I look back at y/n. I now notice the small cuts and bruises that litter her arms and legs. But what catches my attention is the huge gash across her back. It runs from her left shoulder blade all the way down to just beside her right hip. Geez y/n, what happened there? How did that happen? I move closer to her, and take a closer look at the gash. It is swollen all around and it looks like the blood hasn't fully dried yet. I gasp, then place my hand over my mouth thoughtfully. How the hell am I supposed to tell y/n that she's been bleeding? That she has a cut that covers her entire back? I clear my throat and lightly tap her shoulder. She turns to look at me, and I could gaze into her e/c eyes all day. Y/n looks at me questioningly, so I gesture to her back.

"Uh y/n? Don't know how to say this, but it appears you have, erm... cut yourself? It's huge, it covers your entire back.." I say. REAL smooth, Dean. Her looks is a mixture of shock and confusion, and I show her in the mirror. She looks over her shoulders at her reflection and her eyes widen. 

"I, I- uh.." Her face flushes, and she turns away, but I think it's adorable. 

"It's okay," I say, chuckling. "I can help you dress it." Immediately her eyes light up, and she smiles.

"Thanks Dean." We walk to my room, since I insist. Her room is a mess anyway. Before I can say anything, she pulls off her shirt and walks to my bed. My mouth goes dry at the sight of her bare back, but when my eyes meet the huge, bloody gash, I wince. As I walk closer, I can see the peeling skin and dried up blood at the edges, while the middle was still fresh. I ignore the fact that she has no bra and try to find my med kit. She lays on the bed, and I go beside her. I start dressing and stitching the wound. I try to ignore the feel of her smooth skin under my fingers and how her breath hitches when I touch her. I turn my eyes every time it wanders to the swell of her breasts, instead trying to focus on touching up the stitches. I finally finish, and pat her shoulder twice to let her know I was done. She unconsciously turns to face me and puts on her shirt. I try to divert my eyes to look anywhere but her. When she's finally done, we're both worn out. And I honestly feel like sleeping. I can almost cut the tension in the room with a knife, so I clear my throat.

"Hey, I'm gonna hit the bar, wanna come with me?" The bar was my go-to place, as Sam already knows. She nods her head, and after a few glances, she gets it and leaves my room. As I'm changing, my head is swimming with thoughts and questions. Everything is pretty much silent as we walk out the door. The drive is silent. We enter the bar, and I automatically feel a second sense of home. I take a deep breath as I inhale the smell of liquor and smoke, the humid bar buzzing with energy. On the other hand, y/n looks like she might puke. I laugh, then take her by the hand and lead her through the crowd to the bar. I sit on a stool, then help y/n up. She smiles at me, then turns to the bartender. 

"What can I get ya kids?" he asks, and I raise my eyebrow. I am not a kid. But for the sake of y/n, I keep my cool.

"Uh I'll have a beer, what about you, y/n?" I ask, turning to her.

"I'll have a beer too." The bartender nods stiffly then turns to the back. I sigh, then turn to her. And we talk. We talk, and drink, then more talk. Pretty soon, we're ordering our 4th, 5th drink. Y/n is flushed and drowsy, mumbling and closing her eyes every so often. On the other hand, I'm fine. What can I say, I was practically born here. Y/n is blabbing on about something about her past or the lack of one. Until she says something that has me frozen in my seat.