All in the name of Love (Supernatural x Reader x Avengers)

Chapter 3

Dean woke up with a violent throb in his head. It wasn't a hangover headache or a stress headache, that he could tell, the stimulus of the pain was coming from the outside. He slowly reached his hand out, only for it to brush against the coarse threading of the bandage on his temple.

"What the hell?" The more he tried to think, the more severe his headache got. In the end, he relented and called in a third party for help. "Sammy?"

"Good, you're up." Sam was inside in a blink, as if he had been waiting at the door the entire time. "Here." He passed a glass of water to Dean which he accepted graciously.

Dean rubbed his hand on his head, hissing when his fingers poked into the wound, "What the hell happened?" Sam had a moment of artless surprise tinged with panic. "You passed out because I hit you really hard over the head with a lamp." He tried to subdue it.

"Like you always do. Cool." Dean looked at his brother with scornful contempt. Sam's brows knit together. "Dean, wait a second, you really don't remember what went down between you and (Y/N)?"

"(Y/N)." Dean's voice was a faint murmur. A grotesque image materialized in his mind - he was holding the First Blade against your neck. "You are making a mistake, Dean. This is not you." You were saying. A high pitched ringing resonated inside his head. He put his hands over his ears to cut off the noise but the source was not on the outside.

Sam could barely make out his brother's outline as he dashed out the door and he was obligated to follow.

"Where is she?" Dean asked. He had turned the bunker upside down looking for you, giving the illusion that the place had been subjected to a tornado - pages strewn about, furniture overturned, shattered glass everywhere.

Even though Dean was looking for you like it was his first right to, he wondered whether or not he would be able to face you when he did. The thought made his palms sweaty. He hadn't been in control of himself when things had spiraled, regardless he remembered everything that he did.

It was all crystal clear in his head now - the fear in your eyes, your ragged breathing as you ran and hid to save your life and his irresistible urge to end it right there and then. Dean could never imagine doing such vile things to the woman he loved, even when his murderous episodes started to manifest for longer periods of time.

All he wanted to do at the moment was to see your face again and ask for your forgiveness, he was willing to do anything that would grant him that. Confessing his feelings for you was hard enough as it was, now he doubted it would happen anytime in the near future.

"She's in New York." Sam gave the answer he knew his brother would not want to hear, "Said she'd stay with Tony for a while."

"Son of a bitch!" Dean swept his arms across the table, sending a crystal bottle of scotch and its accompanying glasses to their designated fate. "And you let her!?"

Sam had a look of resigned exasperation on his face. "What else was I supposed to do, Dean? She did not want to stay here and I sure as hell wasn't going to let her stay alone in some dingy motel. She was scared."

"Of me?" Dean slowly lowered himself into a chair. His voice was no longer tinted with rage, but was dripping with remorse. "I hurt her, didn't I?"

Sam's heart cried at the sight before him. He kneeled down next to his brother. "Not enough to cause any damage." He lied for the sake of consolation. Dean let out a sad, hollow laugh. He remembered the blood, the excitement it had brought him. "Sure."

"Dean, she is okay. You just need to give her some time and she'll be back before you know it." Sam was hoping this would happen; he really was. Dean did not believe it for a single second. "To whom has that ever happened? You give someone a chance to get away from a distasteful situation, they take it. Nobody comes back."

Sam watched as Dean grabbed the keys to the Impala and headed up the stairs to the door. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to get her back."