In the oblivion

She took a deep breath, feeling like her heart could break all at once and there was nothing she could do to help herself. That was not possible. That's what her mind was shouting, inside. The walls she had in her head were about to fall, but she couldn't allow it. So, she bit her bottom lip, looking at him. She wanted to go away, to run from him, but there was this melancholy in his irises, that kept her standing still.

<< I think you've made a mistake. >> she whispered. She knew that it was stupid to say, because how could he be wrong about his wife? Anyway, she had said it and she had to follow it. She had to do what was the best for herself.

He shrugged his shoulders, sensing this huge burden on his chest, this feeling of losing. The only feeling you can taste in your mouth, beside the blood, when you're about to die. Not for real, no. But he hoped, for a second, that the ground could swallow him alive.

<< No, listen... >>

<< Please, get out. >> she said, holding the broom tight, like it could take her on her feet. Dean remembered how she used to cling to him in the same way. It hurt somewhere between his stomach and his throat. << Please. >>

<< You're gonna remember. >> he said, in a low and controlled voice. << You're gonna remember me. I will remind you. I'm not giving up on you, ever. >> he promised, pointing a finger at her.

Then, he did what she told him and went out from the house. She looked at him walking, outside the window, before that she slipped against the wall, touched the floor and began to cry.

<< Are you sure that she lives here, now? >> Sam asked, closing the car's door.

<< Hey, treat her well! >> Dean replied, after the car made a high sound. Sam rolled his eyes. << Anyway, yeah, I do. >>

The neighborhood seemed so quiet, except for the rumors that came from the house she was supposed to live. Dean opened the door and the loud music hit them in their bones. There was a party, that night. The rooms were full of people, talking, drinking, joking, kissing, girls walking in a bikini (turned out that Y/N had a swimming pool).

They decided to split up, in order to find her quickly. Dean went to the living room, where some guys were probably stoned, a couple was kissing and one was smoking. He raised an eyebrow. It was like the Y/N he knew was gone and been replaced by someone who liked parties and drinks, but she was the opposite, in reality. She was the kind of girl who liked to stay home with him cuddling on the couch, she barely drank a glass of wine at dinner. It seemed like the spell made her party animal's behaviour to get out. Had she got it, in the first place? Dean was confused. And there, she was. Y/N was dancing, bare feet, on the table in front of the couch, a very short dress and without her usual glasses. She looked so beautiful and so free. He smiled, bitterly. That's when he realized: she didn't have that life, because she couldn't. She always had to look after him or Sam or Bobby. She had responsabilities she couldn't run from. She was doing it now. She was running away from them and from him.

He decided that it was enough, when a guy helped her to go down. He was looking at her like she was a piece of meat, but hell, she was still his wife, after all.

<< Hey, excuse me, excuse me, but I think that it is my turn. >> he said, moving in front of her.

She noticed his firm chest, his shoulders and his collarbones as first things that made her weak in the knees. Probably it was the fault of the four (or five?) beers she had drunk. Well, whatever, that guy was smokin' hot.

<< Hey, handsome. Did we meet somewhere? >>

<< That's a very lame pick up line, sweetheart. >> he replied, with an ambiguous smile.