Chapter 1

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The car engine rumbled in the garage and a smile crept up on your face. It meant your two favorite boys were back from the hunt. They had been gone for only a day and yet to you, it had felt like forever. What the bunker had in magnificence, it lacked in entertainment.

You dropped the book you had been reading and sprinted to the door to greet the Winchesters. Dean was descending down the stairs, lost in thought. He looked scared, and once you got a look at the object in his hand, you no longer wondered why.

It was the First Blade. Your psionic powers had made you aware of the problems he was having with the mark, the power it was exercising on him. Right now, he wasn't scared anymore, he was...relishing in it?

Dean looked different, even Sam with no unnatural powers whatsoever would have been able to tell. 'Where is he anyway? Still in the garage?' You wondered. Deciding it was irrelevant for the moment, you walked up to Dean and gently tried to ease the blade out of his hands but his hold wouldn't relent. "Dean, is everything alright?" You were beginning to get worried.

Dean could feel your hand on his, the blood pumping through your veins. He imagined, for but a moment, how it would feel when the blade sliced your flesh and the blood would come gushing out, trickling down your smooth skin. "Peachy." The idea excited him.

It was getting beyond obvious that Dean was not going to relinquish the weapon. "Let go of the blade, Dean." You used a little force and coercion, "Let it go!" While you were trying to maneuver the blade out of his hands, Dean strategically twisted it a little, cutting open the tight skin right below your palm and you screamed, withdrawing your hand to apply pressure on the wound.

A look of pure ecstasy flashed in Dean's eyes. He ran his tongue over his dry lips, looking at the blood as if he was going to drink all of it. "Dean?" You uncertainty called out but your Dean was long gone, what had taken over was a force of true menace.

He took slow, deliberate steps towards you and you backed away until your body hit the edge of the table. "Dean?" You called out again, with no hope this time. He was inches away from your face, his eyes flitting between your wrist and your eyes. Taking a single step back, Dean Winchester breathed out one word. "Run."

You did as you were told, sprinting out of his sight in seconds. Dean had meant it as a warning more than a threat, you could hear him running after you not far behind. Turning around, you crossed your palms in front of you, sending the furniture flying across the room admist purple energy, creating a barricade between Dean and you and buying yourself more time.

You made it to the last room in the hallway and closed the door behind you. Leaning heavily on it, you took long, deep breaths, making up for the lost ones. The moment of relief was short lived, for Dean was pounding on it the very next. "Open up, (Y/N)." Dean sang as his fist collided with the wood.

"Dean, you don't want to do this." You pressed your body against the door. Dean felt the resistance, so he resorted to ramming his entire body into the barrier. "Come on, (Y/N). I'm asking for a favour here. I thought you liked me."

"I did, Dean but the favour will kill me." You squeezed your eyes shut in apprehension. The old wood gave way and before you knew it, you were hurled ahead and Dean was inside the threshold. "You made me force my hand, sweetheart." He cracked his neck.

A searing bout of pain went through your gut and you looked down to see Dean's knee jutted into it. Grabbing his calf, you rotated it clockwise making him elicit a guttural scream. Dean growled. Tangling his fingers in your hair, he slammed your head into the nearest wall and you crumpled on the ground.

The vague feeling of a blade being pressed against your throat was making you squirm. "You're making a mistake, Dean. This is not you." You groaned, trying to get the words out. Dean smiled, a smile which made your heart sink and lose all hope. "I know. I'm better."

Your head was swimming. You wouldn't scream for help, no one would hear you. A gamble with your powers was your only choice. 'Sam, kinda need your help here, buddy.' You sent a psionic cry of help, 'Dean has lost it and I'm hanging between life and death. Get here...as soon as possible.'

The powers in question, you had them since you were born but they were unstable. You had never learned to hone them. You had never relied solely on them, they tended to flake on you; which was why you were certain of your doom.

"Dean, no!" Sam was close, maybe even inside the room. You couldn't tell, the door was obstructed from your view. Thinking quickly, Sam grabbed a lamp from the table and brought it down on his brother's head using full force. Dean's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he collapsed into an unconscious heap.

Whether Sam was here because he had figured things out on his own or because he had heard your call for help, you didn't care. Either way, you were grateful he was here and that you were still breathing.

"You okay, (Y/N)?" Sam threw the lamp down. The blood coating your neck and wrist was starting to freak him out. You answered in rapid nods and short breaths. "Peachy."

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