supernatural oneshots

crazy (dean x reader)

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SONG SERIES 2- loosely based off the daniela andrade cover of crazy in the media

dean hovers in the doorway to your bedroom, watching as you sluggishly pull a pair of boots onto your feet. he has a sympathetic look crossing his face as he twirls the keys to his baby around his finger. he chuckles a little as you reluctantly tie your boots, "c'mon kiddo, we haven't got all day."

you look up at him with an unimpressed glare, quickly silencing dean as you tighten the laces on your boots. he settles again for the sympathetic glances as you shrug your jacket on, sighing as you finally stand up. your eyes are tired, your hair scraped back into a limp ponytail and your skin pale with exhaustion. you aren't physically tired for once, in fact you're quite well-rested, this time you're emotionally exhausted, mentally incapable at saying awake.

"i don't see why i need to come with you." you grumble as dean leads the way down to baby.

"because i want company and sam is goosed." dean says.

"so am i dean." you sigh.

"shut your cake-hole, we're doing something nice for once." dean smiles, hopping into the impala, you reluctantly following suit. he grabs a cassette tape from his box and pops it into the player.

"where are we going?" you ask as dean pulls out of the bunkers drive.

"nowhere, we're just going on a drive." he replies as you groan, hitting your head against the window of the car, staring ahead into oblivion.

you haven't been yourself recently. your job has been getting to you. there have been more hunts and more injuries and more deaths. in the last month you have failed to save the lives of two people, one just a kid, and its really starting to affect your mental health. when you close your eyes at night you see the hopeful glow of that kids eyes as they saw you, the faith they held in you as you strode towards them to help. then, you see the light flicker from their eyes, the hope turning to betrayal as the demons plunge their blades into the child, killing her instantly. other nights, you manage to fall asleep before the pain starts. the monsters chase you in your dreams, haunting you wherever you go, never leaving you alone. sometimes this is worse than the other. you have no escape from demons and wendigos and wraiths. you have nowhere to go.

less than an hour ago, as you were putting your gun and silver bullets away in your duffel type bag under your bed, you failed to notice the tears streaming down your face as you counted the silver bullets. the same number of bullets than before you left. you remember the guy, early twenties with a bright future in biomedical engineering ahead of him and a loving girlfriend who was going to be his wife. you remember him tied down to a chair, knocked unconscious by the werewolves who were taunting you, waiting for your arrival before they killed him. when you arrived, you knew you should've shot first, asked later, but instead you hesitated, watching as the oversized mutts clawed their way through the innocent mans chest. sam had to carry you out of the house after this hunt, you were too distraught to move.

you barely realise it now but as you speed down the motorway, deans music screaming at you, you have hot tears pouring down your face, you contorting your face as he drives, furious with yourself. you do nothing about the tears. you make no attempt to stop them or to wipe them away, you just sit and wallow in self pity as deans tries to drive you away from everything that's bothering you.

suddenly, baby, who was travelling at about ninety miles an hour, begins to slow to a halt as dean turns the impala, parking his beloved car in a dirt track just beside the motorway. you say nothing to dean, turning further away from him so he doesn't see your tears and pray that he starts the car again, desperate to head back.

"you going to talk to me?" he asks, turning his music off.

you remain silent, biting your lips which are salty from the tears you've cried.

"y/n i'm worried about you. i've never seen you so emotional before. i've never seen you cry over something like hunting." dean says.

"i'm fine de-"

"don't give me that bullshit y/n, you're sat in my car, quiet as a mouse, crying your eyes out. you are not fine." he says firmly.

you get the sudden urge to crawl into a little ball and just sob. you want to cry till your hearts content and the overwhelming pressure is lifted off of you.

"please, i just want to help." dean pleads desperately.

"i'm a lost cause dean, you're wasting your time." you say pitifully.

"anytime spent with you is time well spent so why don't you tell me what's bothering you?" he suggests calmly.

"everything is bothering me dean, i have no choice and i'm stuck in a slump of failure and i can't seem to do anything right, i feel as though i'd be better off dead than taking up time in yours and sam's day." you sigh, more tears pouring down your cheeks.

"you aren't a failure y/n," he assures you, "as for me and sammy, you're the highlight of our lives. you keep us fighting and you keep us semi-sane. you always have a choice. you can either roll over and die, or you can keep fighting, no matter what. i hope you choose the second option."

"what if things don't get better dean?" you ask, lip quivering.

"i can't promise you that they will get better but i don't think they can get any worse either." he says.

"promise me something dean," you say desperately, "never give up on me."

"you know i don't make promises because i'm scared that i can't keep them," he says, "but i know i will always be here for you and i will never give up on you."

dean slides across the seat in the front of the impala, wrapping his arms around you in the process. you lean against his body, feeling comforted in his warm embrace and you relax into his hold.

"i'd go crazy without you." you mutter.

"ditto." he replies, gently kissing the top of your head.

~abbie

1080 words