"Baby, why do you always do this? You don't listen to me. Everything you do is always so much more important than what I want to do." I screamed at my boyfriend, Dean.
"(Y/N), I don't know if you can tell, but I've kind of been busy trying to stop the apocalypse! Yes, stopping the world from ending is more important than going on a date! I don't need a damn break from the work! I need to work harder! Why can't you just leave me alone?"
"I don't understand you anymore. We don't even talk! It's either yelling or it's silence! And I hate that," I cried.
"I think I prefer the silence."
I looked up at him, actually hurt this time. Based on how he looked back at me, he could tell he took this fight one step too far. He looked like he might have slightly regretted what he had said. But he held his ground. A tear fell from my eye. I just shook my head at him out of disbelief and turned to our shared room.
"Where do you think you're going?"
I didn't acknowledge him and just kept walking. When I got to our room, I grabbed my duffel full of clothes and supplies and weapons that I keep ready for hunts. I pushed past Dean, who was standing in the doorway. He tried to grab my arm to stop me, but I pulled away.
"Now, (Y/N)–"
"Go back to hell, Dean Winchester," I bit. I felt pain in my cheek. He had backhanded me. This bitch had backhanded me. I got out. I didn't look back. I took my car that Dean had gifted me. It wasn't until I was fourteen miles out that I even realized how big of a mess I was in.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
My life really changed for the better once I left Dean. I had gone back to school. I was enrolled in their new sales and business program. Maybe I'd be able to find a decent job when I finished the classes. I was renting a cheap house near campus for the next year and a half. Since I just needed a few more credits to get my degree, I only had to be there three more semesters.
I was boiling some water for mac-n-cheese when a knock sounded at my door. I turned off the stove since I couldn't damage this place or I'd lose my deposit and I answered the door.
"You son of a bitch."
"(Y/N)–"
"Get out," I growled to Sam, standing on my porch.
"(Y/N), just hear him out–"
"Sam, I don't want to talk to that bastard!"
"Please," he begged, getting down on his knees. "He's a mess without you. He's been drinking nonstop. He hasn't been eating like he usually does. He barely talks to me. He locks himself in his room. Please come back. I miss you. He needs you. He is going to end up drinking himself to death."
"He was gonna do that anyway," I sneered, slamming the door in his face and locking it. The Winchesters weren't going to ruin my life again. I wouldn't let them stop me from finishing school again. I got out. I wasn't too quick to throw myself back in.
Sam kept knocking at my door. I ignored it and turned the stove back on. And I made my mac-n-cheese and ate it all because I'm an adult and I do what I want. I have my shit together. I'm in college again.
I was so relieved when the knocking and shouting at my door stopped. I smiled and cleaned up before locking all of the doors to the house. I turned off the tv and all the lights and headed down the hall to my room. I put Netflix on my laptop and laid down. I tried to get as comfy as possible, because who knows what hell tomorrow would bring.
I couldn't help but think about what Sam had said. I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't help but imagine my poor Dean locked in his room, drunk and torn apart.
This is just what Sam wants. He wants me to feel bad for Dean, so I come back to them and fix things. No. Not this time. Dean needs to get his shit together on his own or else he'll never have it together.
Sometimes I hate how right my mind is. After thinking about Dean, I just wanted to run home and kiss him and run my hand through his hair and tell him that everything would be alright. But I will chain myself to my bedpost if I have to. I will not go back to the Winchesters. I will not go back to the Winchesters. I will not go back to the Winchesters.
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I woke up the next morning with my leg tangled up in my laptop charger cord. That happened more often than I'd like to admit and it was annoying as hell. Once I was free, I showered and got myself ready for the day. I was about to open my door and leave when I heard noises coming from the other side. It sounded like little snorts. Like snoring, kind of. I looked through my front window to see what was laying on my porch, and there was Sam, conked out on my welcome mat.
Well I can't use that door.
I stepped out the back door, walked around the small house, and managed to get to my car without Sam stirring or noticing. I drove away as quickly as I could, not wanting to deal with the impala in my driveway.
I arrived at the parking garage near the building my 9A.M. class was in and parked. Once I was inside the building, my panic from Sam started to die down. My only worry now was that he would be there when I got back to my house.
My Calculus class wasn't as bad as I was expecting. What we were doing was something I understood. And the professor was nice. Next was Physics. Then my classes that day were officially over. I had to return home again. Great.
I got into my car and prayed that Sam wouldn't be there when I got back. I tried to hit as many red lights and stop signs as I could on my way home. I took the long way back. I "missed" my turn into my cheap neighborhood. After about thirty minutes of stalling, I finally mustered the courage to return home. I pulled into my driveway to find the impala still there, but no moose on my front porch.
The hell?
I parked and walked to my door. I unlocked it and walked inside cautiously and slowly, shutting and locking the door behind me. I made my way to my living room to find Sam on my couch watching some cable show.
"Get out of my house, Sam," I sighed, at my wit's end.
"(Y/N), no. I'm not leaving until you agree to come back and meet him."
"Then I guess you live here now. You know, I don't think it's wise, leaving Dean all alone like that. What did you tell him when you left?" I countered.
"Had to go meet someone for a rare dangerous item."
"You shouldn't lie to your brother. And you shouldn't have come here! I'm happy! I finally got out, and I'm getting my degree! I'm using that money I inherited from my parents and grandparents and I'm actually making something successful of my life! Saving people is great, but I want to do that and get paid! I'm getting an undergraduate degree in engineering! I'll go to medical school! I can save people without risking my ass every. Single. Time. Please just let me be happy."
"He feels bad. He missed you. He needs you. He wants to take what he did back," Sam pleaded.
"I don't even care about what he did anymore. I just don't want to be forced back into that life. I'm happy. Don't you want me to be happy? Wouldn't Dean want me to be happy?" I shouted, tears streaming from my eyes.
"(Y/N)," he held my face in his hand.
"Get out of my house," I mumbled.
"What–"
"Don't touch me! Get out of my house!" I screamed at him, falling to my knees, my head in my hands.
"(Y/N)," he tried to soothe, walking toward me.
"I will not hesitate to fucking shoot you, Sam Winchester."
He put his hands up letting me know he wouldn't get any closer and backed away and out the door. Once he was gone, I really broke down, curling into a ball in the floor. Sobs racked my body. I was going into panic attack mode. I hadn't had one in a long time. Not since high school. Surprisingly, life-threatening hunting didn't cause any. Even when I was kidnapped. But as soon as I was put under such stress and mental torment and mental abuse, my mind couldn't take it. And I couldn't even breath. I was hyperventilating. My world was spinning.
As I began to feel like I was going to pass out from exhaustion and lack of good oxygen, a hand came down on my shoulder gently. I couldn't have stopped them if I had tried.
"Hey, (Y/N), shhh. You're going to be okay. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out," Sam calmly said. He sat me up in his lap and guided me. He rubbed my back and demonstrated how I needed to breathe. My body began to calm down. Tears still streamed, but I was breathing calmly again. Sam didn't push me to do anything now because I was too fragile. He helped me to my couch and laid me down. He brought me water and a blanket from my bedroom. I mumbled a thanks and he sat with me. I was exhausted.
"Are you okay?" He asked calmly.
"Yeah," I mumbled.
"You scared me, (Y/N). I could hear you from outside. I stayed by the door in case something happened and I saw it all happen. I am so sorry. I didn't realize you– well, shit, (Y/N)," he breathed. He seemed almost as shaken up as I was. Sam treated me like a little sister. He had always taken care of me while Dean and I were together.
"I'm sorry," I said in a small voice, tears still in my eyes.
"It's not your fault. I'm just glad you're okay," he smiled. I meekly smiled back thinking, 'I'm not okay. But I'm fine for tonight.'
"I'll come back," I sighed. He smiled and kneeled by the couch. He wrapped his arms around me and cried into my shoulder, mumbling thank you's. Sam was a real sweetheart. How had I ended up with the asshole brother?
------------
I woke up on the couch the next morning. I felt exhausted still. My body hadn't quite recovered from my panic attack. Sam was asleep in the recliner. I stood up carefully, not wanting to rush my body into anything and took a sip of my water. I walked into the kitchen and made toast and coffee. Living with Sam and Dean for so long, I knew how Sam liked his coffee. I crept back into the room and gently shook his shoulder.
"Sammy," I whispered. "Breakfast." He groggily sat up with a goofy grin. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and followed me to my kitchen.
"Morning, sleepy," I giggled. He laughed, too. I placed a plate in front of him and handed him his coffee.
"You remembered," he smiled. I weakly smiled back.
After breakfast, Sam helped me pack up my belongings and cram them into his and my trunks. All of the furniture came with the house, so I left it. My tuition wasn't going to waste, because I hadn't paid for next year yet and it was late March.
Sam drove back in the impala, and I followed him in my car. It was a couple hours drive, but I had only gone one state over, so it wasn't too bad. When I arrived back at the bunker with Sam, we both started out by carrying one box to the door. I didn't know what to expect when I walked in the door.
"Oh you're back! Sammy, did you get my pie–" he stopped mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open. His eyes became apologetic instantly and he fell to his knees at my feet. There were tears in his eyes. "I am so sorry–"
"Shhh," I cut him off. "I know. I'm sorry, too."
He wrapped his arms around my legs and sobbed into me. I got on my knees to meet him and set the box down. I wrapped my arms around him and we cried into each other's shoulders. Sam walked in behind me and set his box on the table and moved my box there as well. Dean and I stayed in each other's arms for a bit. As much as I hate to admit it, I missed the little shit.
"Baby, I missed you so much. I was going insane without you. I love you too much to not be able to hold you," he whimpered, another tear falling from his eye.
"I love you, too, Dean," I whispered into his shoulder. Tears were falling from my eyes, too. "I love you, too."
~~~~~~~~~~~
Part 2? Let me know what you think!