Silencing The Foe

Breaking Hearts

“Dean!” I shouted and ran into the house after him. This was bad this was really bad. He definitely just saw Mickey and I sucking face on the front stoup.

I heard a slamming noise from up stairs and knew it was him. It was official, he was pissed. The worst part about him being so angry is it was all my fault, and I knew it.

Slowly I tip toed up the stairs and towards Dean's bedroom. There was a shit load of noise coming from inside when I opened the door just a hair. Dean violently kicked the bed and my heart sunk in my chest. No, my heart was breaking for him, and for me. I didn't want Mickey to kiss me. At one point in time a long time ago I had, but not anymore. The only person I wanted kissing me was now on his knees with his head buried into him mattress.

Was he crying? Oh fuck, Dean couldn't be crying.

I guess I finally worked up the courage and grew some figurative balls because I opened the door the rest of the way and waltzed my ass right up to Dean. Whom was still knelled on the floor with his head leaned against his mattress. I felt terrible, like I had crushed both his heart and mine.

“Dean, sweetheart?” I crouched down next to him and put my hand on his firm muscled back. He wasn't really moving. He was just breathing. Well that is until...

He swung his hand around and shoved me away from him. I fell onto the floor and gaped at him. His eyes were red and he had been crying. It had been a almost three weeks since he was physically violent towards me, and I knew I had hurt him but really? Was he really going to go back to pushing be around and tossing me all around like a rag doll.

“Don't fucking touch me, and take my jacket off bitch!” Dean shouted and I sat there just staring at him . Completely flabbergasted. Had I really hurt him that badly to where he was going to go and act like I had completely stabbed him in the back. Okay, I guess I had sort of unintentionally stabbed him in the back. But it wasn't my fault!

After stripping from the jacket and tossing it at his face, I gritted my teeth and held back the urge to cry in sorrow and anger, “Wow, welcome home asshole.”

“Yeah, talk about a great welcoming. So who's the tool you were out there making soft porn with?” Dean asked angrily.

“One of my best friends, and he is not a tool!” I shouted in frustration, “When did you get home anyways? You weren't supposed to be home for another four days.”

Dean snorted, “Sorry to inconvenience you slut muffin.”

“Oh my fucking goddess! Would you just answer the damn question?!” I put my face in my hands and tried to resist the urge to rip my hair from my head.

Dean looked at me like he was ready to tear my head off of my shoulders, dismember my body in the bath tub, and bury me beneath the floor boards. (For those of you who don't know, that is a Tell Tale Heart by Edgar Allan Poe reference.) I wanted so badly to take my hand and run it across his stubbly cheek. I wanted to take him in my arms and tell him how sorry I was. But I knew he wouldn't have any of it. He was right back to hating me again.

“Well if you must know the doctor put me on a different medication and told me that since I seemed to be acting perfectly normal I could go home. In all honesty I wanted to see you, now I think I'd rather be in the looney bin.” Dean growled.

My heart broke, “Dean I am so sorry! I didn't expect it to- what I mean is- I-”

Dean clamped his strong hand over my mouth, “Oh shut the fuck up and go tell it to someone who cares. I don't give a fuck anymore. Go visit your fucktard tool of a whatever the hell he is, go visit Jackie Boy in jail, or maybe the rapist. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea go do that.”