A New Life (Dean Winchester X Demon Reader)

The Dungeon

The ride to the bunker was long and arduous. With the music turned up loud, and the engine roaring, Dean made sure there was no chance for any sort of chit-chat. So you spent the two hours staring out the window, watching the scenery blur by, your thoughts maudlin. 

Every once in a while you could have sworn you saw Dean's gaze on you through the rearview mirror. But every time you caught his gaze, he would swiftly return it to the road, missing the stray tear that would slip down your cheek. 

As a Demon, you knew it was ridiculous to be crying. You were supposed to be an evil, unfeeling bitch. Or that's what Crowley had continuously told you. But you had quickly learned that wasn't you, and never would be. Maybe if you had tried harder, and listened to Crowley, you wouldn't be in this predicament. With your heart ready to jump out of your chest and stab you, in response to all the pain you had caused it. Anything would have been easier than knowing the person you loved more than anything was ready and willing, to drive a knife straight through your heart.

At one point during the drive, Dean had pulled over at an old rundown gas station, letting Sam out to use the restroom. As soon as Sam was out of earshot you tried to plead your story. "Listen, Dean, I promise I had no ulterior motives, I just..."

Before you could fully explain your predicament, Dean had the blade pressed against your throat, a snarl on his lips. "How dare you. You came into our lives, our home, and lied to us. You're a Demon, of course, you had ulterior motives. Now if you say one more word, I swear I will slide this blade between your ribs, I don't care what Sam said."

You leaned back in the seat, as far away from the knife as possible, fear making you shiver uncontrollably. Dean noticed, a frown marring his features, pulling the blade back and facing the steering wheel once again. By this time Sam had returned, curiously looking between the two of you, knowing something had happened.  The tension between the two of you filled the entire interior of the car, turning your stomach. 

As soon as Sam's butt hit the seat, Dean was squealing tires, the radio once again cranked up loud, offering no room for argument. You wouldn't have anyways, you were still floored by Dean's earlier admission. When you had first noticed Sam and Dean outside of the devil's trap, you had immediately thought it had been Dean who wanted the information from you. But Dean's confession proved otherwise, that he was the one who wanted you dead, while Sam wanted the information. This did not bode well for you, because Sam had threatened to kill you if you hurt his brother, which you had. Either way, you were screwed, it just hurt a little more coming from Dean.

Dean took a corner a little too fast, and with your hands cuffed in front of you, you couldn't stop your head from slamming against the window. You cried out in pain, ignoring the bewildered look Sam shot over his shoulder before he glanced at his brother in surprise. Dean shrugged, never taking his eyes from the road.

Soon, Dean was pulling the Impala into the bunkers underground garage, and you held your breath, knowing you probably wouldn't like what came next. You were right, Dean came around the car, opening the door, and grabbed the first thing he could touch, which happened to be your hair. With no thought to your wellbeing, Dean pulled hard, and you followed as fast as you could to take away the horrible pressure from your head. 

As soon as you were out of the car, he slammed the door shut, switching his grasp to your upper arm. His grip left no room to escape, not like you would have been able to run. The shackles around your wrists took away any powers you had. 

Dean forced you down the hallway, one that had been filled with many happy memories. Passing your old bedroom, you could help the little smile that crossed your face. Remembering the colorful quilt Dean had bought for you, a sheepish look on his face, unsure if it was the right move. It had been so sweet, and unexpected, and you could still remember the shocked look on his face when you had thrown your arms around him.

Trying to stay on your feet, you followed behind, through the library where you had spent many times talking books with Sam or researching a new case. It had been your favorite room of the entire bunker.

Down a darkened hallway he pulled you, one that you were less familiar with. This hallway had always seemed dark and foreboding, and when you had lived here you had tried your best to steer clear from it.

Dean opened one of the many doors lining the hallway, flicking the light switch to illuminate a small, storage area. Confused, you looked to Dean, but he was already moving, his face set in a grimace as he used his free hand to pull aside one of the storage shelves, revealing another room. It wasn't any room, you quickly realized. With the thick stone walls, the straps hanging loosely from hooks and you knew it was a dungeon. One that could hold a Demon or any other sort of monster in its grasp.

Dean annoyed that you had stopped to gawk, yanked on your arm, and you tripped, the floor quickly rising up to meet you. Before you could hit the cold, hard stone floor, Dean's hand on your arm pulled you up, against his sturdy chest.

Ignoring the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you watched as Dean seemed repulsed by your touch, which was enough to cause tears to gather in your eyes.

"Quit your acting," Dean growled, before not so gently pushing you down in a wooden chair that was placed in the middle of the room. Taking a key out of his pocket, Dean undid your handcuffs, and you quickly rubbed the free skin, raw from the cuffs. Before you could do any more, Dean once again had you cuffed, but this time to the chair.

He took a step back, and as you watched him, you realized there were lines running through the entire room. Following them with your gaze, you quickly came to realize you were in a large devils trap, with devils trap handcuffs on your hands. You were completely at the mercy of Sam and Dean, and from Dean's angry, hateful expression sent your way, you knew you would have no help.