Maniac

You Maniac...?

He slammed his fists into the wall. "Do you know what I sacrificed for our relationship?!" he yelled violently. You didn't answer as you tried to unglue your feet from the floor and build up the courage to actually leave.

"No. You don't because you're stupid! How could you be so stupid?!" he asked, bringing his hands to his head, his knuckles scraped and bleeding.

"I don't know, Dean. But you're right. I am stupid. Stupid for ever thinking that you loved me. For ever thinking our relationship was real," you shot back, finding yourself. You're not going to let him treat you like this anymore.

"Oh, here comes the waterworks..." he snarks in annoyance. "Love isn't telling someone that they're crazy, Dean. And it sure as hell isn't telling everyone you know that I'm crazy... What was it you said? Wasn't it... oh, yeah. I'm crazy and drive you insane? That I'm a-a... a stalker... a psychopath?" you asked, trying your hardest to not let any tears escape.

"You didn't sacrifice anything! I was the one paying for date after date. I was the one who stayed up all night at a bar or on the couch hoping, praying that an officer wouldn't be at my door the next morning to tell me you're dead. And I was the one who was working my ass off so that you could keep up your job, which was what again?" you ask, searching his eyes. His response was to roll them.

"Oh, yeah. Traveling around the country, even after your brother came to his senses, chasing after things that don't even exist!" you yell.

"You are such a psychopath. Do you hear yourself?! This is why our relationship didn't work! Because you're so freakin' dramatic! I mean, you made our relationship a tragedy! We could be married now; have kids, but I mean, listen to yourself! You need help," he told you.

You scoffed. "You know what, Dean? You're the one who showed up at my home, drunk and alone with a shovel and a rose. You're the one who called me. You were the one who begged me to come back, and here I am, yet again! Even after EVERYTHING. You told your friends you hated me and dated me just for laughs. You just dated me for the hell of it... I mean, do you feel good about yourself for that?" you ask, genuinely curious.

"Generally? Yeah, I do," he said with a smug grin. You nod to the floor. Even though that was the answer you were expecting, hearing him say it... The way he just... confirms it like that...

"So why did you beg me to come back? You know, people like you always want back what that can't have... but I'm past that. And now you know that. I may be stupid, but you're the psychopath! And quite frankly? A homicidal maniac. You don't kill monsters, Dean, because they don't exist. You kill people, okay? And listen. The police are on their way, so do what you need to. Run, stay, hide, I-I don't care... I'm done," you say, hoarsely, finally leaving.

The walk down the driveway was the longest walk you'd ever taken, yet it didn't last long enough, and keeping yourself from completely breaking down became harder with every step.

You open your car door, but he stopped you. "Y/N, wait! Please! You can't just leave me like this!" His voice is so angry, and there's only one right answer.

"Goodbye, Dean."

As soon as you pulled the door shut, you broke down. Red and blue lights flashed behind you, and you watched as he put his hands to the back of his head. He didn't even look hurt.

He looked terrifyingly furious as he got to his knees, and an officer pulled his hands behind his back, locking them into handcuffs.

His eyes never left yours as he was pushed into the police car.

"I never wanted this for us," you whispered to yourself.

"SHAPE UP, DEAN!"

You sit at your kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a book, when Dean comes up behind you and kisses your cheek.

"Have I told you how much I love you lately?" he asks. "You're up surprisingly early," you remark with a sigh. "That a bad thing?" he asked. "Um... no," you chuckle to yourself.

"Hey, are you reading that book... again?" he asked. "Hey, don't dis. It's a good book," you tell him frankly. "Oh, I don't doubt that it is, but what is this? The... fifth time?" he laughed.

You turn around to defend yourself but notice that his hair is combed down instead of gelled up. He wore a nice vertically striped button-up shirt, matching red suspenders and tie, and black slacks.

"Dean?... What's going on? Are you having, like, an early midlife crisis or something? Oh my gosh. Are you having a stroke? D-Do you smell toast?" you ask, seeing that he's pouring himself some coffee without the whiskey this time.

He laughs and sits next to you. "No. I actually had the weirdest dream last night. It kinda gave me a wake-up call. But, I got a call yesterday for that job I was interviewed for. Yeah, turns out they really liked me. Wanted me to start today," he says happily.

"Well, wake-up call, or not. I knew you'd get that job," you tell him, giving a soft smile.

You brought your lips to his, kissing him again and again.

He hummed, checking his watch. "I.. gotta.. go," he said, between kisses, "Love you." He gave you a kiss on the forehead.

"I love you, too," you tell him, sulkily. "Oh, whatever..." he teased as he pulled his suit jacket on.

"I'm proud of you," you say. "OkAy," he replied in a low, dumb voice. "I hate you," you say through laughter.

He scrunched his face, sticking his hands behind his ears. "Oh my hell, you are such a dumbass! Go, or you're gonna be late."

"You're so mean to me," he said with a frown, holding a hand to his heart. "Only when you deserve it. Oh! Hey, before you..." you started. "MEANIE!" he yelled. "Okay, but seriou..." "MEAN!" he yelled again.

You yank your slipper off and throw it at him, hitting him in the chest. "Shut up!" you giggle. "Ow!" he exclaimed, letting the slipper fall to the ground.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did that hurt you? Poor baby. Okay, but seriously, we have dinner with your brother and Jess tonight at six, so don't be late," you tell him. "Alright. You said five, right?" he asks, checking his watch.

"Dean, I still have one slipper left," you threaten. "Okay, okay. Dinner at six. Got it," he said, picking the other slipper off the ground.

"Yep, and remember, don't be late. Jess was pretty excited. I think, if this is even possible, maybe even more excited than when they got married. She says they have big news."

"Sam, Jess, dinner at six, big news. Got it!" he said, waving your slipper as he went out the door. "Hey! I need that!" you yelled.

"Nope! You lost your slipper wearing privileges, sorry!"

"I hate you!"

"I love you, too!" he yelled back as the door closed behind him. "What am I gonna do with him?... gosh, I love him," you whisper through a soft giggle.

"'Blood gushed out as from an overturned tumbler, and she fell straight on her back. He drew away to let her fall, and then at once bent over her face: she was dead...' Wow, such a tragic ending to such a good book."

The End

*I honestly had so much fun writing this! I hope you enjoyed it, and don't forget to check out my other stories! I'll keep you updated on Instagram, which is nothing.ever.really.ends.spn Thanks for reading!*