Chapter 8

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The four of you stared at the trap speechless.

"How did he do that?" You asked. Sam looked at you with wide eyes, giving you a shrug.

"I have no idea," He said. "It may be his hybrid side."

"Yeah but still," You said. "He's part demon. Shouldn't he be stuck?"

"Theoretically," Dean grumbled.

"Why didn't he just walk across the line? Kill her now?" Sam pondered.

"I dunno," Dean shrugged.

"Well, that's great," You said bitterly. You crossed your arms over your chest and let out a sigh.

"Now what are we going to do?" Bobby asked. "The bastard doesn't get trapped inside devil's traps, the blade doesn't work on him, we have no idea what the hell else he is. We're just a bunch of idjits with our thumbs up our asses."

"We'll figure this out," Dean said. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. The whole situation was completely fucked up. You had no idea what Aamon was or how to kill him and quite frankly, your life span wasn't looking too good.

Dean seemed to have hope, something you lacked. Aamon was old and strong. He was able to break through wardings that could keep the strongest demon away. And somehow, after twenty-one years, he broke through, and there was nothing stopping him from ripping your heart from your chest.

One thing that sat you with sourly was when he said he'd kill your father and the brothers. He never had shown interest in them in the past, he would have come after them sooner, right? But why now is he showing interest?

He knows you'd do anything to protect the people you love. He doesn't truly care about them, they're just leverage to him. There's no reason to kill them or keep them alive, not in his eyes at least. Your biological parents were in the way, your siblings were in the way, Carter was in the way. They were all in the way of you.

But if the boys weren't in the way, they'd be fine. Aamon wouldn't have the need to kill them.
He knew you'd protect them, not letting him kill the people you love. He knew you'd give yourself to him before that ever happened. That's why he threatened them.

A switch clicked in your brain, the reason he didn't walk across the edge of the trap, the reason he didn't just kill you right there, dawned on you. He wanted you to give up, to surrender. He wanted you to know he's in power and to give in to him. He wanted to show you he was in control and how easy it was to make you break. To make you his.

You let out a breath and walked over to Bobby's desk, reaching underneath it and grabbing the bottle that sat under the faded wood. You sat down and put your feet up on the desk, unscrewing the cap and taking a long drink, feeling the amber liquid burn your throat deliciously.

The three men gave you a disappointed look and you just stared back, taking another drink. You didn't give two fucks about what they thought of you. You needed something to take the edge off.

"Y/N, we'll figure this out," Dean said again. You shrugged and took another drink.

"Yeah, sure." You said bitterly. You sighed and looked out the window, the cloudy sky matching your mood.

"We aren't going to let him get to you, Birdy," Bobby said. "We'll find out how to kill him."

"I'm not going to let him get to you," You said standing up. "You heard what he said. If any of you get in the way of me, you're dead. And I'm sure as hell not going to let that happen."

"So, what, you're just going to roll over and give up?" Dean asked.

"Hell no. But if it comes down to it, I'm not letting you die for me," You stressed. "You guys are too important to me-" Your eyes locked with Dean's. They were pained and unnerved, matching yours- "I wouldn't be able to handle another person I love dying. I mean, when Dean died, that practically killed me."

"But how do you think we'll be if you die? You think I can live without you, Y/N?" Dean whispered. He walked closer to you, taking the bottle from your hands and replacing it with his own. You grasped them tightly, and looked between his emerald orbs.

"You have Sam and Bobby," You murmured. "Besides, I'll be easily replaced."

"Bullshit," He said. You laid your head on his chest, allowing him to wrap his arms around you.

"You're not dying. That's not happening," Bobby grumbled. "We'll kill the bastard. But for now, I think we need to take precautions."

"Like what?" You asked. You glanced up at Dean, who shrugged.

***

"Seriously?" You sighed. You glanced around the panic room and slumped your shoulders.

"Seriously," Bobby said. "This'll keep anything out. You're safe in here."

"So what, I'm a prisoner now?" You hissed. "This is crap. I should be helping you guys."

"Not a prisoner." Sam shook his head. "This is the only way to make sure he doesn't find you. You're completely safe in here."

"I'm going to be alone in a freaking dungeon," You grumbled. "I'm a prisoner."

"You won't be alone," Dean said. Bobby and Sam began walking out of the room, Dean staying where he was, his eyes trained on you.

"What?"

"I'll be here with you," He said. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. You stared up at him, your hands fisting themselves in his flannel.

"Why would you do that? You're locked in here now," You said.

"I love you," He whispered. He bent down and pressed his lips against your forehead. "That's why," He murmured against your skin. "Besides, we're alone. I bet no one can hear us down here." He wiggled his brows, making you giggled.

He bent down lower, latching his lips onto your pulse point, his hands gripping your waist tighter.

"Dean..." You whined. He smiled against your skin and moved his hands to the round of your rear, a squeak sounding from your lips when he squeezed.

He chuckled and moved backwards, his lips finding yours once again as he fell back on the twin bed, bringing you down on top of him.

"Wait, no Dean," You said rolling off of him. He furrowed his brows, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"What is it?" He asked. His eyes widened a bit when a thought struck him. "Are you a virgin?"

"What? No, I..." You sighed, running a hand down your face. "I can't be on top of you. I'm too heavy."

"What the hell are you talking about?" He asked, his thumb running across your cheekbone.

"I'm too heavy to be on top of you, Dean."

He sighed and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer and snuggling his face into the crook of your neck. He let out a long breath and shook his head.

"That's not true, Y/N," He muttered.

"Yes, it is," You said.

"No, it's not," He said harshly. He lifted his head up, his face a mere two inches from yours. "How many times do I need to tell you?" He pressed his lips softly to your collarbone, moving up to the base of your throat. "You're beautiful-" He moved his hand down from your waist to your thigh- "Absolutely beautiful."

His hand moved inwards on your thigh, coming dangerously close to the ache between your legs. You ran your hands up his sides to cup his face, bringing his lips back to your own. Bringing his arm around your back, he rolled over on to his own, bringing you on top of him, your legs straddling his thighs.

You broke apart from him, his lips latching on to your jaw. "Dean-"

"No," He murmured against your skin. His hands landed on your legs, squeezing them affectionately. "Let me show you how beautiful you are-" He pulled back to look you straight in the eye, his hand coming up to cup your cheek- "Let me show you how much I love you."

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