Dark Tendencies (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Errands

*A/N: Hello jelly beans, I was wondering how long I should make this story. I am tempted to just keep going because I have a lot of ideas for how to incorporate this through all the seasons, but I also don't want this to be a SUPER long book... but there is so much I want to write about so I am debating finding an ending for this book and then making another one? Idk. What do you think? Should I even try to continue? Is anyone actually interested in this type of story plot? Thank you to all of you who are reading this. I hope you are enjoying it. Let me know what you think. You are all amazing humans!*

When you woke up you had tear stains on your cheeks and your body felt heavy. You hadn't gotten off of the couch in a couple of days. At first, you told yourself you were just resting to prepare to confront Crowley who no doubt played you and deserved some old-fashioned ass-whooping, but eventually, you told yourself that it didn't matter. So what if the world burned? It's not like you could really save it anyway. And your redemption? What a crock of crap. 

There is no saving you. 

You didn't feel like yourself. Part of you was missing and it scared you. You felt darker and were unsure what you would do if you got off the couch so that is where you stayed. 

It had been a couple of weeks of beer runs and take out boxes, a TV, a couch, and a blanket. What more could you need? You had given up. Your phone rang for the first week or so of you being gone but the calls got more and more frequent. Various calls from Bobby, from Sam, from Dean even. But you didn't care. You got so annoyed by the constant buzzing you eventually threw your phone against the wall, watching it crumble into a hundred pieces so you could have some peace and quiet with your thoughts. 

Laying there watching mindless TV was boring, but you tried to focus on it because focusing on anything else hurt too much. You tried to numb your emotions with alcohol and push down the rising dark parts that were becoming ever more prevalent. It was like trying not to scratch an itch that was becoming more annoying than the endless phone calls you had received. You felt like your heart had been torn out of your chest, and you didn't feel like anything was worthwhile anymore. Everyone was safer with you not around so why return to the world that had forsaken you?

"Hello, Darling" came an all too familiar voice from behind you. You didn't even move, just continued to focus on the TV.

"Not even a 'why the hell are you here'? No profanities? Nothing?" Crowley taunted while walking around to sit in the chair next to you.

"You look all washed up," he says as you flick your eyes to watch his expression. His eyebrows were raised looking at the state you were in. "Heard about the brake up with the plaid boys. No fun, but necessary" he says relaxing into his seat.

"Why the hell are you here?" you finally say.

"Finally," he says sitting more upright and taking the half-empty beer bottle you had been drinking. He takes a swig, then looks around the room. "I tried to call, but seems your phone is a little... predisposed," he says as his eyes land on the cellphone parts littered on the ground by the TV. "I thought you deserved an update about what is going on in the world"

"Stuff it, Crowley. I don't care. I give up." you say in a huff looking back at the TV.

He looks at you with a worried expression. "Give up? You don't ever give up."

"Well now I am," you reply reaching over for another beer, but Crowley grabs your hand to stop you.

"I think you have had enough" 

"Who are you to tell me what to do? You don't even tell me the truth. You lied to me, Crowley. You just expect me to trust you after that?" you snap pulling your hand away and crossing your arms in a huff.