LILITH | DEAN WINCHESTER [ ✓ ]

dean special: caretaker

◖𓈈﹗ ﹙ special chapter﹚
❛ ▬▬ CARETAKER . . . ❜

Dean Winchester had accepted the silver blade that Aleister offered him a few years after that encounter with Lilith. Since he was dragged to Hell, he had worn the amulet to endure the tortures and prevent his soul from turning into a demon. He wasn't going to become a monster... until he saw her. That damn witch had been wandering in his head from the start, along with his brother's name. Every day he thought about Sammy. He didn't even know if he had survived that demon Lilith. Dean knew he didn't deserve to be there and that he had bought his space by selling his soul; it was easy to say and blame, and he should go back urgently.

Throughout his life, he had had nightmares. His mother's death and that tragic day during his childhood were the main nightmares. He had never had nightmares about monsters, ironically. His nightmares always revolved around the deaths of his loved ones; in Hell, he couldn't sleep, the tortures prevented him, but that didn't stop him from imagining what was happening above. His brother had been left alone, and Lilith didn't resemble the girl he knew. That scared the hell out of him. Lilith had shown up shattered, saying that Sam wasn't okay: nobody was okay. He had wondered for years if it was real until it was no longer necessary to know; he had believed it, and he couldn't get it out of his head.

He accepted the blade and started torturing souls. He had to become a demon and get out of there.

"And Lilith?" Bobby asked as soon as he saw him enter the motel room.

"She got mad and left," he replied with a drawn-out face. He was soaked, his clothes completely wet, drops of water falling from his hair, and he was shivering again. He had spent the whole afternoon in the rain accompanying Lilith in the cemetery.

"What happened?" Sam asked, coming out of the bathroom, looking at him worriedly. "We need to talk to Lilith; she knows about the angels."

"She doesn't want to talk to us; we'll have to try to talk to her tomorrow," he said without further ado, also angry about how things had turned out. "I'm going to take a shower; I'm freezing."

He was very upset, bothered by what was happening. He wished he had never left; the weight of abandoning his responsibility was killing him. He had left his brother hanging, and now—not only did he have to deal with the crap with Heaven—something dark was growing around him. Sam was lying to him: starting with hiding that he could exorcise demons with his freaking mind and being helped by that bitch Ruby. A demon who couldn't wait to slit his throat, I mean, she was a demon, she had to be killed, and he was tired of demons. He turned on the hot water and felt his muscles relax. What would he do with Lilith? That girl didn't give off good vibes either; she had changed too much. He understood, Regina had died, and if it hurt him, he couldn't imagine what she was going through. He could vividly remember when his mother died in the fire. The smell of smoke and the last time he was in her room, dad hadn't let him take his favorite toys. He abandoned everything, and his life was never the same. When he had taken Lilith's hand, he had realized how fragile she was. He felt the cold, thin bones entwined with his hand, which seemed giant and grotesque in comparison.