Original Request: Can you make an imagine where the reader and Dean can't get out of a house and there is no fire? So he tries to keep her warm and awake but in the morning when Sam find them she won't wake up? And they take her to the hospital? With Dean pov?ﾟﾘﾘ
„Voice mail", you said, holding the phone still to your ear, to leave a message for Sam.
In the last weeks this area had become more than suspicious. Lots of demonic activities, and since recently vanishing people, found dead a few days later, without any hint of who it was. Sometimes they'd come back alive, their personalities changed drastically.
Therefore everything hinted at demons.
Sam was out alone, visiting the place the last victim had been found, while you and Dean had tailed a demon, that was no stranger to you. He was on several pictures of the incident in the newspaper, and had escaped from you more often than you would like to admit.
But one thing was certain. He knew something, and you needed this information.
„(Y/n). There he is. Come!", Dean hurried.
Immediately you threw your phone on the glove compartment, quickly following Dean outside the car.
As inconspicuously as possible you followed the demon.
„He went inside the house", Dean whispered. „Alone. Follow me."
With these words he released the safety of his weapon, and sneaked closer to the front door. While following him, you didn't once look away from the windows. The chances of the demon seeing you were pretty high, after all. Entering through the front door was not really discreet.
Slowly Dean opened the creaking front door. If he hadn't seen you so far, he now had heard you for sure.
With a quick movement you entered the room, but the demon was nowhere in sight. Instead you could hear something from upstairs.
„I don't like this, Dean", you whispered, staring at the old staircase. „Why would he go up there. This doesn't make sense."
But Dean just shrugged. „He's a demon, (y/n), who knows what they're up to."
He had barely finished his sentence as Dean had already reached the staircase. Silently you cursed, making a mental note to kick him in the guts later, before you followed him.
Slowly you walked up the stairs, weapon at the ready.
Dean had already gone further into the floor, leaning on a door frame. He pressed one of his fingers against his lips, before motioning you with his head, quietly telling you to come closer.
You nodded, positioning yourself on the other side of the door. Quickly you checked it. It was massive. If it was locked, you wouldn't be able to open it, that was sure. At least it seemed like you could do it from the outside. So if worst came to worst, Dean could kick it down, if he had to.
Dean locked his gaze with yours, before mouthing a small countdown.
Three. Two. One.
With a strong kick, Dean opened the door, ready to shoot anything that moved, and so were you.
But nothing did so.
Suspiciously you squinted your eyes.
Inside was a big wooden writing desk, a chair that seemed way too small for the massive table standing in front of it. An old standard lamp was positioned in one of the room's edges, though you doubted that any kind of electricity still reached this place.
Apart from that the room was empty.
Slowly you followed Dean inside, but there was no one. You quickly checked the table – the only place where someone could hide – but also there – nothing.
You lifted your gaze to look at Dean, just as a loud bang made you flinch.
Simultaneously Dean and you turned around, to realise that somebody had slammed the door shut behind you. Immediately Dean ran towards it, pulling at the knob. Nothing.
He slammed himself against it. Again the door didn't even budge. Instead a voice sounded from the other side.
„You know, you became really annoying." And with these words you heard his steps becoming quieter and quieter.
Quickly you ran up to the window. It was incredibly dirty for the greater part, and right in the middle there was a big splintered hole. A few seconds later you could spot the demon leaving through the door, not even caring to turn around to you again.
„Fucking asshole", you sighed, while Dean was still trying to break open the door. „Dean", you said. Again he threw himself against it. „Dean", you repeated, this time a bit louder. „Stop it. It won't open this way."
Dean turned around and scoffed. „Son of a bitch", Dean yelled in his anger, kicking against the small chair and sending it across the whole room, making it hit the wall.
Sighing you looked around, while digging your hand into in your pocket, until your fingers gripped what you searched for. You pulled your lipstick out of it, and started to draw on the walls.
„Demon Runes?", Dean noted, and you nodded. „We don't know if this guy will come back. And if he gathers more..." You shook your head. „I draw these, you call Sam."
Dean nodded, pulling out his phone.
You heard him dialing the number, before a more than annoying beeping started to sound through the room. „Shit", he cursed, before throwing it on the table. „No battery. Give me yours."
You stopped in the middle of your movement. -
„Shit."
Slowly you turned around to Dean. „I forgot it in the car. After I tried to call Sam."
Dean huffed in frustration. „Great. You have got lipstick, but forget your phone?"
You glared at him angrily. „Yes, Dean, I do. But as you can see not exactly to freshen up my make up. Now let it go, okay. You could've charged your phone."
„So now it's my fault?"
You sighed. „No, Dean. No. I'm just trying to say, that accusing each other is not actually helpful." Dean scowled, but let it be.
You finished your demon traps, placing the lipstick back into your pocket.
Your hand had gotten numb, while writing, so you quickly rubbed your hands together. It had gotten cold. The cold winter air swept in through the broken window and you definitely could have been dressed better for this weather. Well who could have known that you would been trapped in a room without heating.
„Can we jump?", you asked, trying to get your thoughts away from the cold and instead to find a way out, but Dean shook his head. „No way. Too high and down there is nothing but cracked asphalt."
Sighing you let yourself lean on one of the room's corners and slide down it's length.
„Great", you said. „This is just great."
„How long?", you asked, breathing hot air into your hands. „Two hours", Dean answered. He had started pacing through the room at least an hour ago. „Nearly three", he added, with a glance on his watch. The sun had set outside, and with the darkness had come the frost.
It already had been cold. Now it was freezing. You could see your breath misting clearly in front you, and you had buried your hands in your pockets over an hour ago. Still you could feel your fingertips getting numb.
Dean instead had been walking around the room, trying to find a way out. He had even destroyed the little chair, by throwing it hard against the door.
He was restless.
„Sam will find us soon. I'm sure", you said, trying to calm him down a bit, but just managing Dean to make him sigh. „He better will", he grumbled, looking outside of the teared window.
You let your gaze wander around the room, until it stopped at the remains of the chair, Dean had smashed.
„Hey, Dean, do you have your lighter?", you asked, going to the chair to examine it. It would definitely burn. Simple wood, with a soft laquer. „It's freezing cold, and unless the repairman isn't coming to fix the heaters, I'd fancy a fire."
Just now Dean seemed to actually realise how cold it was. Of course he needed his time. After all he was wearing nearly six layers of clothing. You really should start rocking the Winchester-style, you decided.
Dean grabbed into his pocket, just to yell out in frustration. „Damnit."
Sighing you threw the leg of the chair back onto the pile of broken wood. „Where is it?", you asked, burying your hands in your pockets again. „I gave it to Sam", he answered, letting out another curse.
Reluctantly you nodded. Well, couldn't be changed now anyways. You leant against the wall, slowly sliding down through it.
Dean stopped pacing and just looked at you. „You are cold", he stated, looking down at you. „No, Dean, I'm freezing", you answered, pulling your knees close to your chest to keep as much body heat as possible.
In the next second you looked up to Dean, stripping of his jacket, before handing it over to you.
„Wait, Dean, aren't you cold, too", you asked, but accepted it reluctantly. „I'm fine", he simply answered, sitting down next to you. He waited until you had buried yourself into his jacket, before wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. For a moment you just sat there like this, doing nothing but staring onto the opposite wall.
„How long do you think Sam will take", you asked silently, resting your head on his shoulder. Dean tightened the grip he had around you. „He'll be here soon."
Without a word, you nodded, cuddling closer to Dean. You were still shivering, and freezing.
Whether it was because of his clothes, his muscles or just because he was Dean-fucking-Winchester you didn't know, but he didn't seem to shiver at all. Surely he had to be cold too, though. Slowly you took of the jacket you had hanged around your shoulders down and placed it, like a blanket, on your laps and above your chests, before cuddling closer to Dean.
You were still shivering. It had turned completely dark outside. The only thing you could see, was Deans silhouette, weakly illuminated by the few moonlight that was shining inside the room.
„(Y/n)", he said, his voice rough and hoarse. „You have to stay awake."
You shook your head. „I'm tired", you whispered. But you knew he were right. You shouldn't sleep at these temperatures. You sat in a room, as cold as the outside in the middle of winter in Minnesota.
It was at least below 10°F/-12°C. You knew that it would have been a very bad idea to sleep right then. Your body would have just cooled down even more. Still, you were so tired.
„Talk to me", Dean demanded, searching for your cold hand with his. „About what, Dean", you asked still staring out in the darkness.
„Something. Complete bullshit if it has to be", he answered, bringing your hand closer to his chest to keep it warm. How could this guy still be so warm?
„Sometimes you are an idiot, Dean." You could feel him nodding, and though you couldn't see his face, you were pretty sure, he had pulled a grimace. „Well, not exactly what I was hoping for, but good start."
You chuckled. „Sometimes you are an idiot", you repeated. „But you know, most of the time I love you. I really do." „I love you, too", he whispered, placing a small kiss on your hair.
„Dean, I don't wanna' talk anymore. My throat is killing me. I've talked the last 3 hours straight."
„Not even two", Dean objected. How he managed to see anything on his watch was a miracle to you.
According to what he had told you so far, you had been in this room for nearly 5 hours now. It was in the middle of the night and it was cold as ice. Everything you wanted to do was to sleep. You were so exhausted, that even the shivering had stopped some time ago.
Heaving a tired sigh you closed your eyes, shifting in a more comfortable position. Your head still rested on Dean's shoulder, the jacket spread out over your upper bodies.
„I just wanna' sleep a bit. Just a little bit." Your voice had gotten more quiet with every word you were saying. Dean hesitated, but finally you could feel him nodding.
„Alright", he gave in. „But I'm gonna' wake you in about one and a half hours." Nearly sleeping, you just nodded as an answer. „Alright", you whispered, before your breathing became steady and you sunk in a deep dreamless sleep.
Dean's POV
Dean felt her breath become steady, and knew she had fallen asleep.
He had to admit that it had become incredibly cold. Even he was freezing and he barely froze ever.
He sighed. If Sammy wouldn't come soon, they'd have a problem.
It had been 7,7°F/-14°C at day time. Now it was night, and the wind was strong, drafting through every little crack in the old building.
Those were no temperatures to spend the night practically outside.
Dean sighed, pulling (y/n) closer to him.
This would be a long night.
„Dean!" Loud noises. „Dean, are you inside there." He opened his eyes. Light. Bright light.
Dean needed a bit to remember where he was. Right. The house, the demon. (Y/n). He looked beside him. There she was, sleeping peacefully. „We're here", Dean yelled back, not being extremely surprised about his aching throat. He could hear Sam throwing himself against the door. „(Y/n)", he whispered, shaking her gently. Sam threw himself against the door again. „(Y/n)." Once more.
„(Y/n), wake up!" Sam burst through the door, and knelt immediately next to Dean and (y/n). „What's wrong", he asked, looking at her sleeping features.
„She won't wake up", Dean whispered, before his voice nearly became a shout. „She won't wake up." Dean started to shake her harder, but still, her eyes remained closed. Dean tried to calm himself down a bit. Panicking didn't help right now.
Instantly he held her still again, checking her facial features. „She's breathing", he observed.
Dean wrapped his jacket around her as tight as he could, before picking her up gently. „We need to get her to the hospital", Sam started, also standing up. „I'm gonna start the car."
As fast as he could, with her unconscious figure in his arms Dean followed his little brother outside that damned building.
„From what I see, everything is going to be fine. Her pulse is nearly back to normal and we gave her warm IV fluids. Fortunately there will be no sequelae."
„Thank you", Sam told the Doctor, giving him a small smile.
Dean by contrast didn't smile. He just nodded, turning his attention back to (y/n). „This shouldn't have happened", Dean said, as soon as the Doctor had left. „I should have been more careful."
Sam shook his head. „Dean, it was a trap. You couldn't have done anything."
„Yes, I could", Dean said, looking up to meet his younger brother's gaze. „She told me that something would go wrong. I didn't listen. She knew it was a trap."
Sam sighed. „Hey, man, listen. You both got tricked, and she ended up with a little bit of hypothermia. But she's fine. She is completely fine, so stop blaming yourself, okay?"
Dean wasn't exactly convinced of his brother's words. Partially it was his fault, he knew that. He didn't try to blame himself, it was just the truth.
„She could've died, man", Dean started again, his voice cracking. His throat still hurt with every breath he took. He licked his lips, before turning his gaze back to Sam, looking into his eyes. „She could've died."
„But I didn't."
Immediately Dean's head snapped around, looking at her still pale face. Her voice was hoarse, but yet she managed to sound amused.
„Sometimes, you're an idiot, Dean." She smiled at him. It was an exhausted smile, but it meant she was fine. It was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen on her face.
Her lips parted slightly, before she let out a tiny chuckle.
„But most of the time I love you."
