Confetti it's a Parade Book 2

Back in Black

Dean Winchester X Reader

Synopsis: After Dean is killed by Metatron, you are having a pity party in the bunker with Sam. But then the unthinkable happens, shocking you to your core. Written For 

"And then... I can't believe..." You cried into your empty crystal glass, too distraught to even reach forward and grab the nearly empty bottle.

"Y/N." Sam muttered, hanging his head down, not even looking your way. "It's been a week. I don't really want to talk about it." 

"I'm sorry." You sniffled, trying to reign in the tears, but being unable to do so. After Dean had been killed by Metatron, you had become a shell of yourself, trying to drown yourself in whiskey. And then, his body had disappeared, no doubt been taking by that bastard Crowley. And now, here you were, dirty, and in the same clothes, drinking from the last whiskey bottle in the entire bunker. Which broke your heart even more. Because that meant you would have to leave soon, to get more.

"I know it's hard. But I just...I can't..." Sam said, standing up and walking away, no doubt going to lock himself in his room. It was his way of coping with it. Leaving you to drown in your sorrow, as he hid his behind that large, wooden door.

Sighing, you stumbled your way into the kitchen, your buzz enough to make your steps unsteady, but not enough to make you forget the fact that your boyfriend was dead, and his body was missing.

Opening the fridge, you gagged at the smell of rotting food. Slamming the door shut behind you, you rested your head against it, the cool metal feeling wonderful against your flushed skin. Closing your eyes, you tried to relax, but flashes of Dean's green eyes filled your thoughts immediately, before the scene of the blade being pushed into his chest played over and over.

Sobbing, you rushed out of the room, running down the hallway, straight into Dean's room. It had once been your room too, but when he had the Mark of Cain you had moved into another room for your own safety. Crumbling onto the bed, you pulled his pillow to your face, breathing in his scent that lingered. 

It was his scent that calmed you, and soon you found yourself in a restless sleep, tossing and turning on his bed. Dreams of happier times with Dean filled your sleep. Dreams of drive to nowhere, of laying on the hood of the Impala and watching the stars. But then those started to go away, and your dreams turned to nightmares. Memories of a crazed Dean, high on the effects of the Mark of Cain coming after you, giving you bruises. Then the worst, Dean's death replayed over and over, each time more gruesome and slower than the last. Tossing and turning, you finally pulled yourself out of the dream, opening your eyes as you tried to slow your heartbeat. 

A pair of familiar green eyes stared down at you, only inches away. Blinking your eyes a couple of times, you waited for them to go away, but when they didn't you gave yourself a chance to hope. "Dean? Is that really you? Are you back?" You asked him, wanting to reach up and touch his cheek, but still too scared and unbelieving to do so.

"Yep. It's me alright. I'm back." He said, before his green eyes flashed to black. "In black." He purred, before chuckling deeply. "I've always wanted to say that. I love AC/DC."

"What the hell?" You yelled, scrambling up the bed, trying to get away, but Dean just clamped a hand around your throat, holding you in place. It was hard, looking at the man you loved, seeing his eyes pitch black. "Get out of him!" You tried yelling, but it was hard when your supply of air was being cut off.

"Oh sweetheart, this is all me. Just new and improved. Give me a minute and I can show you." He whispered near your ear, before nibbling on your ear lobe. The feel of his teeth on your skin, the brush of his lips against your ear had you forgetting for a moment that he was a Demon. But when you got control of yourself once again, you did the only thing you could think of.

"SAM! HELP ME!" You screamed as loud as you could, before Dean slammed your head back into the headboard. Your vision swimming, you still struggled to fight, to get away from what had become of Dean. But he was too strong, and he dragged you off of the bed, holding you up by your neck.

The door slammed open, and a sleepy Sam stood in the doorway, a gun shaking in his hands, his hair standing on end. "Dean?" He said, it taking a moment to register. He took a step into the room, confused, but then he noticed the darkness of Dean's eyes. "Your back?"

"Yep. Back in black." He said again.

"Don't you think you've used that line too many times already." You snapped, and Dean squeezed your neck harder. 

"Dean, let her go!" Sam exclaimed, holding the gun back up once again. But his hand was shaking, and you knew in your heart that he wouldn't shoot his brother. No matter if it meant your life or not.

"I think not. You see, I've enjoyed being a Demon so far. But I've missed something. And that something is her. She was always nice to have around. Who knows, maybe I'll turn her into a Demon, make it more interesting." Dean suggested, before letting go of your neck. Your knees giving out, you fell to the ground, watching as Dean strode forward, easily knocking the gun from Sam's hands. He shoved Sam until he was up against a wall, before whispering something into his ear. As Dean was distracted, you picked up the gun, noticing the devil's trap bullet inside.  Hoping you were doing the right thing, you fired the gun, hearing the wet thud as it entered someone's body. Looking up, you saw Dean turn to you with anger in his eyes. Sam was laying limp on the floor, unconscious from a hit to the head.

"You shot me?" He asked incredulously, looking down where the bullet entered his shoulder. "That changes things. Now I can't let you live."

He rushed forward, knocking the gun from your hands, before backhanding you. Feeling your lip split open, you raised a hand to feel blood dribbling down your chin. "I was going to give you everything! Immortality, money, me! But you had to ruin it! You had to shoot me!" He yelled, punctuating each word with a hit or a kick. After the first or the second you just laid there, taking it, knowing there was no way you could get past or away from him.

After your eye was swollen shut, and at least two ribs were broken, you heard the clinking of metal, and an inhuman screaming. Peering through your good eye, you saw Sam wrestling his brother, a pair of devil's trap handcuffs holding him in place. "I've got him Y/N. It's going to be alright, I've got him!"