Supernatural One-shots

Fix You- Dean Winchester

~(A/N: Yes I know the title is a Coldplay song but I promise it makes sense. This has content about cutting so if you're not comfortable with that, I don't suggest reading this and this might be my last one-shot about the topic cause I'm kind of going through a dark place and it's bringing back old feelings. Anyways, this oneshot is set around season 3 and was requested by @NERDALERTGUYS)~

You sat in the motel bathroom, curled up against the wall as you bawled. You promised yourself this was the last time. But that's what you told yourself last week. And the week before that.

Sam and Dean went out to buy some grub from a local diner, so this was one of the very few times you were alone with your own thoughts. Most people enjoy the idea of having time to themselves, but when your thoughts are borderline suicidal, it's like the silence is adding coal to the already scorching hot flame.

You were so invested in those thoughts, you hadn't heard the bathroom door swing open. "(Y/N)?" Dean barged in with wide eyes. He glanced down at the bloody slits on your arms and ran over to you with urgency. "What happened to you? Did you do this to yourself?!?"

All you could manage to do was sob more, and he quickly pulled you into his arms. You cried into his chest and took in his scent, which smelled like leather and motel soap.

"I'm sorry," you muttered through muffled tears.

"Don't apologize," Dean assured and stroked your hair as he helped you stand. "Common, I'll get the med kit."

You nodded and let go of him as you quietly walked over to your bed. You watched as he scavenged the bathroom cabinet for medical supplies. You never told him or Sam this secret, mainly because you didn't want to hurt them. You were always the bundle of joy in the trio, or so they thought.

Not too long later, Dean rushed into the room with a bunch of supplies. He took out some alcohol wipes and glanced at you, waiting for you to hold our your arms.

Reluctantly, you held your arms out and gulped nervously. "This might sting," he warned and tried his best to gently slide the wipes over your cuts. It stung like a bitch, but you kept yourself together and didn't flinch.

Dean was quiet the whole time, focusing on attending to your wounds. You were glad he wasn't harassing you with questions, maybe because he understood how exposed you had felt.

He wrapped up your arms in bandages and you couldn't help but study his beautiful features like his glimmering green eyes and sharp jaw line that always gave you butterflies. It pained to think, in just a few months, you wouldn't ever be able to see that face again.

"Should we talk about this?" Dean finally spoke as he finished up your bandages. All you could do was shrug, not dating to look him in the eye. "I'm pretty sure you don't want to but I need to know why."

"What do you want me to say?" You muttered, "I'm depressed. I always have been. You wouldn't understand."

"Well why haven't you told Sam and I? We could've helped you," Dean insisted.

"Help me with what? Being happy? Plus, you're going to hell soon and there's nothing Sam and I can do to change that."

"Is that what this is all about?" Dean frowned.

"Well it's the tip of the iceberg," you admitted.

"(Y/N), you're the toughest chick I know. You've been through hell and back. It just pains me to see you like this because..." He trailed off.

"Because what?" You arched a brow.

"Never mind," Dean shook his head, "It's not important."

"Nothing you say isn't important," you assured him, "What is it?"

"I love you (Y/N)," he finally blurted out.

"Y-you what?" You stuttered.

"I'm head over heals for ya (Y/N). I've been in love with you since the day we met," Dean confessed as he gazed into your eyes, "And it just hurts to see that you've been dealing with this alone for so long."

"Dean, I love you too," you admitted, starting to tear up more. "But I just don't know what Sam and I are going to do without you."

He took your hand in his, squeezing it lightly, "I promise you, I'm going to find a way out of my deal. But I need you to promise me something in return okay?"

"Sure anything, what is it?"

"I need you to talk to me. I know I'm not much of a talkative person but I'm a great listener," Dean said, "So whenever you're feeling down, please talk to me before you do something you'll regret."

"I promise Dean," you nodded. He took both your bandaged arms and held them up to his lips, softly kissing each wrist.

~ Second A/N: If you're ever feeling down or you feel like you're to the point in which you want to commit self-harm, please remember, there are people here for you. And if you don't feel comfortable talking with your family about it or friends, you can always inbox me. You're all beautiful, amazing people and never forget that~