Supernatural Series Rewrite- Season 3

The Magnificent Seven- Part 1

"Sweetheart, come on, talk to me," Dean said, needing to hear your voice. You haven't spoken to anyone in the past few days, always keeping silent, trying to fight off your innermost dark thoughts. You were on the bed, knees up to your chest, staring at the wall in front of you. You couldn't cry, all your tears were wasted. You couldn't do anything except breathe and even that was getting harder to do.

"Y/N, come on, you've made your point, okay? I know you're pissed at me." Dean tried again.

"Pissed? You think I'm pissed?" You finally spoke, your bloodshot eyes looking at his. Your voice was scratchy from not using it but you didn't care. You were about to say something else when you heard shuffling come from the other end of the room. You saw Sam there, trying not to intervene in this conversation.

"Sam, you're spending the night in the car. Go." Dean stood up and threw his keys at Sam who caught them easily.

"But, Dean..." Sam tried to reason with his brother but Dean wasn't having it.

"Go, Sam, now," Dean commanded. Sam looked at you and he sighed, grabbing his books and getting up. He stomped out of the room like a child, going to the Impala. When he left, Dean turned to you again, hoping to hear your voice.

"I'm not pissed, Dean." You said slowly.

"Then why have you..."

"I'm hurt. I'm tired. I feel like I can't breathe anymore. I'm hurt that you would do this to me." You said sadly, casting your eyes down.

"I did this for you," Dean argued.

"No, you did this for yourself," You said, looking up at him. "You couldn't live without me so you brought me back for you. Well, guess what? Now I get live without you." You got up and was about to pass him to leave the room but he grabbed onto your arm.

You didn't think you could cry anymore but the tears came upon the first contact.

"Dean, don't, please." You said, your voice shaky. Dean pulled you into him and he lifted your head so that he was looking into your eyes.

"I did this for you, sweetheart. You weren't meant to die. I don't care what that yellow-eyed bitch has to say. You were meant for a full life and now you're going to get it."

"What about you? You deserve that too, Dean. But no, you're going to be in Hell, Dean. Not even I could save you from that."

"Let's forget about it. Let's forget about the world tonight. It's just me and you. What do you say? Let us have tonight." Dean whispered, his face moving closer to you. You needed this. You craved for his touch, to be warmed by his heat.

You leaned up and pressed your lips to his gently, softly, to just feel the fullness of them. He knew you needed this so he let you take things at your own pace, not kissing you back until you asked for it. You pressed your lips harder to his, grabbing his shirt to pull him closer.

It was when your lips began to move against his, is when he finally kissed you back, opening his mouth to snake his tongue in your mouth. You fisted your hands on his shirt while his hands looped around your waist, resting on your ass.

He pulled you closer, pressing the obvious bulge in your clothed center. You moved your hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off him swiftly before returning your lips to his. You were thankful he was only wearing one layer tonight.

He squeezed your ass in his hands before moving them to your waist, slipping underneath the shirt to touch your skin. You pulled away from him and took his hands, leading him to the bed. On the way, you took your shirt off along with your bra, flopping on the bed.

Dean hovered over you, leaning down to attach his lips to your pulse point, sucking softly. You let out your first moan, arching your back slightly so that your nipples brushed against his chest. Tonight, wasn't about sex or passion.

It was about love and knowing that you two were there for each other. It was about a sense of comfort, to know that you had a home with Dean, no matter where the two of you were. Just when things were sliding into third base, there was a pound on the door before it opened.

Sam came in and peered his head around the door only to see his naked brother's ass clench. You gasped and moaned out Dean's name just as he hit your g-spot. Sam yelled out in horror before leaving the room and slamming the door. Only when you both had come, is when Dean opened the door again.

"What do you need, Sam?" Dean asked, a small smirk on his face.

"Bobby found something. Come on." Sam said, disgusted. You suddenly felt cold again, the fear of never seeing Dean again in a year's time, creeping up your spine. You pulled on your bra and shirt with a sigh, taking your time.

"We'll be right out." Dean shut the door and looked at you. His heart broke at how sad you looked. He didn't know how to make this better for you. He knew that there was no way he'd be getting out of the deal he made, so he tried to live his life as if he never made it at all.

"Sweetheart, we have to go." Dean had his jeans on and he put back on his shirt.

"Yeah." You whispered. If the room wasn't so quiet, Dean maybe wouldn't have heard it. You felt heavy again and felt your chest started to constrict. Your scar from where you were stabbed still hurt but what was a little pain?

You walked past Dean without another look at him. You got into the backseat of the Impala, Sam's eyes boring into your head.

"Stop staring at me, Sam." You wrapped your arms around your waist just as Dean entered the car, starting her to life. He pulled away from the motel room and began to drive in the direction Sam pointed at. Dean was driving a little too fast but at this point, what was the point?

"Give me your knife." Sam broke the silence, speaking to Dean.

"What for?"

"So, I can gouge my eyes out." You rolled your eyes but stayed silent.

"It was a beautiful, natural act, Sam," Dean said with a chuckle.

"It's a part of you I never wanted to see, Dean."

"Then, maybe next time, don't come barging in."

"Yeah, whatever. I'm just glad you're having fun. You deserve it."

"Well, I am in violent agreement with you there," Dean said with a laugh. Can't he tell how fucking broken you were?

"Sam, what does Bobby have?" You said, needing something to distract you. Sam looked back at you and nodded, shifting his body so he could look at you better.

"Not much. A crop failure and a cicada swarm outside of Lincoln, Nebraska. Ahh, could be demonic omens."

"Or could just be a bad crop and a bug problem," Dean said, interrupting Sam.

"Yeah, but it's our only lead," Sam argued.

"Any deaths?" You asked.

"Nothing Bobby could find, well, not yet, anyway."

"It's weird, man. I mean, the night the devil's gate opened, all these weirdo storm clouds were sighted over seventeen cities. You'd think it would be 'Apocalypse Now', but it's been five days and bubkis. What are the demons waiting for?" Dean said, confused about all of it.

"Well, if I were a demon and I've been stuck in Hell for a long ass time and were suddenly free, I wouldn't spend my time killing people. I would want to live again." You said.

"Yeah, maybe," Sam said.

"Well, get cozy because we have a long drive ahead of us," Dean said, putting on some rock music. You stared at him, watching him smile and sing along to the lyrics. You wanted to be as happy as he was and you couldn't tell if he was putting on an act or not.

However, you weren't happy and you definitely were going to show it. You laid down in the backseat, free to cry without anyone seeing your tears.