Confetti it's a Parade Book 2

Not the Same Part 2

Startling awake, you expected to be in the same dark dungeon, Dean ready to inflict more torture. Instead, you were in your old bedroom, your favorite blanket pulled over you. You were sore, your entire body aching.

Slipping out of bed, wavering on your feet, you stumbled into your bathroom. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you were shocked at your own reflection. Bruises and cuts covered the majority of your skin. Your hair was matted, your eyes haunted.

"Y/N?" Sam called out, making you flinch and cower towards the shower until he stepped into the room and you saw he was alone.

"Sam, how long?" You asked him, wrapping your arms around you to try and stop the shaking.

"Only a day," he answered. "How do you feel?"

"Like your brother attacked me with a dull knife," you muttered darkly.

"Cas is on his way, and he can heal you then," he told you. "But for now, why don't you take a shower, and clean yourself up? I worked on some of the worst cuts, but I was kind of busy as well."

"Where's Dean?"

"Locked in the dungeon. He's getting cured, and you won't have to be afraid of him any longer," Sam told you, but both of you knew it would take awhile before you could face Dean. If you ever could again. "Just stay in here, recover, and I'll keep you updated."

With that, Sam left you alone. Climbing into the shower, you winced as the water cleaned your skin, turning red with all of the blood still caking your skin. It stung, but you didn't mind. It meant that you were still alive.

You weren't sure how long you stayed under the spray, but your mirror was completely fogged over when you climbed out. Wrapping the towel around yourself, you searched through the drawer for your small first aid kit, ready to clean and bandage some of the cuts when you heard someone clear their voice behind you.

Twirling around fast enough that the bandage dropped from your hand, the towel almost slipping from around you, your gasp could be heard throughout the room. "Dean!"

"Did I...," he stuttered, seeming so different than the Demon who had inflicted these injuries. Shame filled his olive eyes, his shoulders hunched. "Did I do that to you?"

"Dean," you started but stopped. You weren't sure what to say. What did you say to the man that had almost killed you? "Dean, it wasn't you."

"It was me!" He exclaimed. "Sure, I was a Demon, but it was still my hands that held the knife. I will never be able to forgive myself for what I did."

"Dean, we'll work through this together," you whispered, surprising yourself at how easy you forgave him. Stepping forward, you reached up to him when his frown turned into a wicked smile, his eyes flashing black. "No!" You screamed, stumbling back, slipping on the slick floor.

"You bought that way too easily," he taunted. "Still a Demon. Still needing to sate this bloodlust."

"Sam!" You called, racing towards the door. Laughing Dean reached out, grasping your towel, pulling it from you. Stumbling into your room, you grabbed your robe as you went, slipping it into your shoulders. Dean could be heard laughing behind you as you stumbled into the hallway.

You weren't sure where to go. All you knew is you needed to get away, as far away as possible.

Stumbling into the kitchen, you searched for the knife block, but it was empty. As you rushed towards the sink, you could hear Dean's booted footsteps behind you as he entered the kitchen.

"Dean, please, let Sam help you," you pleaded as you reached over, grabbing the steak knife.

"I like being a Demon," he insisted, and before you could even blink he was beside you, grasping your wrist hard enough that you felt the bone snap. Crying out in pain, you slapped him as hard as you could, but he only laughed.

Feeling like a puppet, you braced yourself when he slammed your forehead into the countertop. "I've been wanting to finish what I started," he whispered, grabbing you by your hair. Holding the knife that you had dropped, it held it to your throat, when Cas wrapped his arms around Dean, pulling him away from you.

"Y/N, run!" Cas screamed, and you didn't need to be told twice. Cradling your broken wrist, you raced back down the hallway. Past your room and into Dean's, hoping that he wouldn't look for you there. Crouching in the corner, hidden from view, you took deep gasping breaths, your exhausted body fighting to stay upright.

Minutes passed, and you were about ready to stand up when the door opened. Crouching down again, you saw the silhouette of a man standing there. "Y/N?" Cas called out.

Standing up, you swayed on your feet. "Dean's asleep. Sam administered the last of the cure."

"Will it work?" You asked as Cas helped you to the bed.

"I do not know. But you need to relax, and take care of yourself," he told you. Pressing his hand to your forehead, you felt a warmth spread through your body before you fell asleep.

Feeling much better than before, you sat up, freezing when you noticed Dean sitting at the foot of the bed. A suitcase sat beside him, overfull.

Crawling back, you watched him carefully, ready to run if he even blinked. "I'm healed," he said flatly. "You can ask Sam or Cas. But I won't hurt you. Not again."

"How can I trust you?" You asked him, watching him closely.

"There's holy water in the drawer," he said. Reaching inside, you took the flask, splashing him, watching with relief as nothing happened.

"Dean!" You exclaimed, torn between wanting to throw yourself in his arms, and wanting to sit back.

"I just came to say goodbye," he told you calmly as if he hadn't just been a Demon.

"What do you mean? Where are you going?"

"I'm not going anywhere. You are," he answered. "I remember everything I did to you. And I can't have you going through that again. You deserve a normal life, and that's what you're going to get."

"Why?" You asked, not wanting to leave. This was your home, your life.

You almost died! And for what?" He yelled, lowering his voice when you flinched. "You almost died at my hands, and I can't have that. So, Sam is making arrangements for you. You'll have a happy life, far from me."

"But what if I say no?" You asked him. "I don't want to leave."

"I was afraid you would say that," he spoke softly. "Cas!"

"Dean, I still don't like this," Cas spoke up.

"You don't have to like it," he growled. "You just have to do it."

With a frown, Cas came walking towards you while Dean stood up. "Y/N, I'm sorry for everything I've done to you. But know this, I've always loved you."

"Dean, wait!" You exclaimed, but Cas leaned over, pressing his hand to your temple once again.

"I'm sorry Y/N. But when you wake up, you won't remember any of this."