Supernatural Imagines & One Shots

Top-Side Part 4 (Dean Imagine)

"But why?" You ask, as you pace back and forth. "All I want to know right now is why. We can figure out what's next later." You can't seem to stop fiddling with your hands, so you clasp them behind you. You'd think that being brought out of hell you make you thrilled, but sadly, it's not always a good thing. This time, it's cause for concern.
"We know Chuck never does anything for no reason, or with the kindness of his heart. So why the freaking hell am I top-side?"
"Y/N, try to calm down." Sam, said looking up from his laptop.
"Calm down?" You reply with an incredulous laugh. "Chuck Almighty brings me out of hell for whatever reason, while also reigning hell on earth, and you want me to freaking calm down? Thanks, Samuel, you're all heart."
"I ju–."
"Drop it, Sammy." Dean interjects, standing up. "You've done enough."
Deep down, you know Sam means well, and you're being a bitch, but you're scared. It would also be nice if he were more understanding, especially when he does understand.
You go to say something, but your voice gets caught in your throat. Almost in audibly, you get out, "I need some air."
When you step out of the motel room, you're greeted with a fresh breeze. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, and exhale. You repeat this quite a few times, gripping your chest. Not long ago, you thought you would never feel this breeze again, and thinking about last night, there are a lot of things you thought you'd never feel again. You bite your lip in spite of yourself.
The door opens, and you move to the side leaning against the building. It was Dean, and he had two beers in his hands. "Thought you could use a pick-me-up."
"Thanks," You smile, taking the beer from his hand, "I could."
Dean stands next to you, and things fall silent for a while. You begin to worry that Dean can read your thoughts. Not only was he in hell before, but quite frankly, he knows you better than anyone. Right now, you'd do anything in your power not to talk about it, but you get the feeling Dean knows that too.
To break the silence, and to avoid the main subject, you say "I'm sorry. I...uh..know you were working a case when you found me, right?"
Dean clears his throat. "You're more important than some case, Y/N." He looks sideways at you. "We got some other hunters on it."
   His green eyes search yours, looking for what exactly, you don't know, but it causes a twinge in your chest.
    You shake your head and pop the cap off your beer. Dean watches you as you take a long, and deep drink. "I can't talk about it, Dean." You say afterward, looking at him. Your eyes start to fill with tears, and you swallow hard. "I just can't."
   Dean wipes away a few escaped tears from your cheek. "I know."
  Right now, at this moment, you love Dean more than ever, and if you hadn't found each other again, you don't know where you'd be. You could be in the hands of you don't know who...or what.
  "I tried to find you, you know." He says in a low voice as he opens his own beer. You can tell he's trying to keep his voice steady. "I did everything I could."
   You put your hand on the side of his face and he leans to your touch. "I don't doubt that for a second. All that happened wasn't your fault, Dean. All that happened? I know you spent all these months blaming yourself."
  Dean drops his head. "Wasn't it?"
"Hell no. Look at me...Dean, look at me."
Dean lifts up his head.
"If you keep blaming yourself, I'll kick your ass. You hear me?" You smile a little, and stroke his jawline with your thumb. "Don't test me, you know I will."
"Yeah," he says with a little chuckle, "I hear you."
You lean in and press your lips to his. He sighs and turns his head to kiss you back. With your drink still in hand, you wrap your arms around his waist. His soft lips, and warm tongue fill you with a tingling sort of peace.
  You pull back to get air, and Dean's lips chase yours. "I love you." You whisper. You didn't think he'd respond, but in almost a whisper, he said, "I know."
  You stay wrapped in his arms until you both finish your beers. Each time a hell memory flashes in your mind, you push it away and remember where you are.
  A moment later, the door opens, and Sam pops his head out. "Sorry to interrupt, but I think I have something."
You look at Dean, and sigh.
"Come on, sweetheart."
He lets go of you so you can walk in first. Your heart is beating, and you have a terrible feeling that things are going to get much worse.
When you're back in the room, you tap your foot. "So what's next?"
Sam looks serious, which isn't all that alarming. It is Sam after all. "We're going to him."
"Who? Chuck? How the hell is that a good idea?"
"Hold on," Dean interjects, "let's think about this."
"I don't have any other options. There's no other way to do this, Dean."
You're listening, but the words seem to pass through you. This is all too much, and you feel sick.
"Excuse me." You say in a low voice, before running to the bathroom. "I'm okay." You tell Dean, after noticing the look on his face.
You stand in front of the sink, and splash water on your face. It's cooling, and you can already feel a difference. A flashback hits you, and you stagger backwards. Fire, and screaming, replay in your head.
Clenching you hands into a fist, you shake your head. You will get through this.

Before you leave the bathroom, you stop, leaving the door ajar.
"We're going to figure it out, Dean. You know that."
Sam says, but he almost sounds like he's also trying to convince himself.
"Are we, Sam? Do you know how much this is killing me? Y/N doesn't deserve this. She went to hell for me, Sam." Deans voice is shaky, and you sigh, clutching your chest.
When you don't hear anything else, you open the door, and put on a fake smile.
"So, how do we call him?" You ask, sounding casual.

Final part coming soon.