Broken Apart (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Back Again

"Y/N, get behind me." Dean said very softly, motioning for you to move. But you couldn't, you were frozen by the man in front of you, with the strangely glowing eyes.

"Y/N!" Dean said again, still softly, but with more force, and you started to move to his side, but the Djinn was fast, and before you could be near the safety of Dean, he had reached out and grasped your arm, pulling you to him with surprising strength.

You stiffened as the Djinn held you close to his body, leaning down to sniff behind your ear. "Yes, you will do quite nicely." He said, just as Sam came barreling through the door. He stopped when he looked at the scene in front of him, Dean standing there, while you were trapped. Dean had his hands clinched, his eyes trained on you as he tried to find a way to help you.

"More visitors? Who knew I would be so popular." He teased, pulling you back with him.

"Just let her go." Dean pleaded, as Sam slowly came closer.

You felt the Djinn shake his head. "I don't think so. I can already smell the fear on her, I think she will taste even better." He said, and you shivered. You didn't want to become Djinn food.

"Don't you dare." Dean threatened, taking a step forward, showing the knife. But it was too late, you noticed the blue light shining from the side of your face, as the Djinn moved his hand to place it on your arm. You realized you were still holding your knife, and you raised it up, and pushed it behind you, hearing the disgusting sound of it finding it's home.

"Oh sweetheart, there is nothing to save you now." He warned you, and you looked down to see his blue handprint firmly etched onto your skin. He released you and stepped backwards, floundering to the ground, dead.

You stood there in shock, staring down at your arm, where the blue hand print stood out against your pale skin. "Dean?" You said, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. "Dean, what do I do?"

He had dropped his knife by this time, and was rushing over to you, just in time to catch you in his arms as you collapsed on the floor. "Y/N, don't worry. Maybe since he's dead, it won't take hold of you." He said, looking up to Sam for confirmation.

Sam just shrugged, his face contrite, as he wasn't sure what to do.

Dean turned back to you, placing his hand on your cheek. "Don't you worry, I won't let anything happen to you. Even if you do get sucked into the Djinn's dreamland, I will find a way in, and I will save you."

You smiled at him, but you could already feel the pull of the hand print, and your eyes slowly started closing. "No Y/N, fight this." Dean begged, but you couldn't, it was too late, and you gave him a small smile before your eyes closed and you knew no more.

_____________________________________________________________

Waking up, you glanced around, wondering how Sam and Dean had gotten you out of the dream so fast. "Dean?" You called, but no one answered, and you watched as the darkness slowly faded away, turning into something you had never hoped to see again.

You were once again in the mustard yellow walls of your room back at the club. Your heart beating furiously, you looked around, noticing nothing had changed. There was still the clock above the door, your closet that held identical items of the same uniform. A wooden door that led into your small bathroom, where you would no doubt find all your makeup, and the pills they made you take to keep up your stamina and health.

Your bed was rumpled, either from sleep last night, or something you didnt, and couldn't think about. You blinked back tears. "This can't be real. I left this place. This has to be part of a dream." You repeated to yourself, but when you glanced down you noticed you were in the extremely small, and revealing uniform.

A knock sounded on the door, and a burly man's voice followed after it. "Y/N, it's time for your shift. Hurry up or the boss lady will not be happy."

You stayed where you were, fear and utter denial holding you to the spot. "No." You whispered.

He must have heard you, because you heard a sigh from the other side of the door, before the door handle started turning. At the club, no door was to be locked, no matter what. It opened, and a man stepped in, as tall as Sam, but much broader, full of muscle. He was wearing tight jeans, and a tight black t-shirt, that with one wrong move would rip in half.

"No, this is a dream. This is not real." You whispered, and he stared at you.

"What did you take? The bossy lady is not going to be happy." He told you, grabbing your arm, and forcing you down the long, gray hall towards the door you remembered too well.

"Please, no. I can't go back out there!" You begged, but he didn't listen, instead he opened the door, and pushed you out.

It was as busy as you remembered, every table full of customers, the dance floor full of writhing bodies. You stood there, pale and shaking, until you were given a push from behind. "Standing here won't make any money. You will run the drinks tonight."

You nodded, knowing there was no way you could get out of the job. But you were grateful it was drinks night, and not dance floor night.

Grabbing an apron, it was scary how well you fell back into the routine, how easy it was to remember drink combinations, which hands to avoid, who gave the bigger tip.

You were so busy that at first you didn't notice the hush that went over the crowd. But when you turned to serve a drink, you were met with a pair of familiar green eyes.

"Dean?" You breathed, relieved that he was there to rescue you.

"Yep, it's me sweetheart. Now let's get you back to your room so you can get out of here." He told you, and you started to remove your apron, but when you glanced up, you froze. Because Deans eyes were no longer the comforting green. They had turned black.