Dean froze in one place. He felt his heart stopped beating as he stared blankly at the rippled water, where she had disappeared to. He closed his hands into fists as he anticipated for his father and all of the men to leave. He counted the rippling waves of the water inside his head, with the hesitation to jump in. Every second felt like an hour to him. While the warm tears started to roll down the corner of his eyes, he bit his lips to hold back his painful sound that was about to escape his mouth. His heart was throbbing hard against his chest that he could felt his legs were starting to shake.
All of a sudden, the light beam from the car lit up the darkness before it slowly drifted away. After his father and everyone had departed the scene, Dean hurriedly took off his blazer and threw it aside. He jumped into the cold water without any hesitation. Under the dark navy night sky, he swam blindly, searching for Giselle. His arms were swaying everywhere to reach for her body until he caught what felt like her arm. Dean wasted no time to pull her up out of the freezing cold water onto the wooden path.
His tears were uncontrollably flowing out of his eyes as he prayed quietly to himself. All he wanted at that moment was for her to breathe again. Was it too late? Why was his body trembling so badly? His world, that was already isolated, felt even more dry and bitter the moment he witnessed her soulless body.
Lifting his trembling hands, he started to perform CPR in desperate. Meanwhile, he was compressing her chest, he called her name. "Wake up, Giselle. Wake up. I'm sorry." He begged at the same time he cried loudly in regret.
When she didn't show any reaction in response, Dean started to feel hopeless. How come when he lost his mother, he didn't feel the same way? How come he felt like he was losing every corner and edge of his strength? His body felt a sudden weakness. Even though the moonlight lit up the sky and his surroundings, but all he could see was the darkness that was engulfing him. The sound of his heart, that was repeatedly crashing against his rib cage, was deafening his ears. Nothing else in this world seemed to matter to him as he leaned his head down to seal her wet lips with his. He pinched her nose with his shaky fingers as he gave her his first breath.
After a couple of times of breathlessly giving her his breath, she still didn't wake up. Dean fell back onto his glute emotionlessly as he cried harder. His teary red eyes scanned her wet unconscious body without a blink. His mind was filled with nothing, but her name. No matter how many times he prayed and called for her, she didn't bother to respond. He didn't know what to do to bring her back to life. He tried everything. He tried his best. He had never saved anyone, and he didn't know how to revive them back to life either. At that moment, he wished to exchange his life for her life, if he could. Never had he ever felt this way towards anyone. Even when he lost his mother, Dean didn't feel as broken as now. He raised his shaking hands up and then pulled his hair with full force. For the first time in his life, he felt like he was losing his mind and control. Dean screamed at the top of his lung before he punched the wooden path a few times.
What have I done? What am I even doing?
He questioned himself, unable to think straight, as he leaned in to pull her body up with his bleeding right hand. His icy heart broke into pieces, the moment he embraced her. She was just talking. She was just apologizing to him the other day. How could time run so fast? How could fate decide to separate her from him again? The lightning pain struck his heart as he tightened his grip around her shoulders.
Meanwhile, Dean was hugging her in his arms, a weak sound of her coughs drew his attention. He released her a little before he turned to stare at her face. "Breath, it's okay. I'm here. Look at me. It's okay. I'm sorry." He apologized, almost in a whisper, while he tucked a strain of her wet hair behind her ear gently. She didn't reply besides passing out again. He breathed out in relief when he felt her chest was moving up and down against his. "I'm sorry. It's okay, now." He whispered softly and then placed his chin over her head. As he caressed her wet hair, he cursed himself for not being able to protect her from his father.
Right before the sun could rise, Dean, who was deeply asleep, suddenly woke up to the sound of the door creaking. On a big soft bed, he turned to his right-hand side, where he was expecting Giselle, but she was nowhere to be seen. His resting heart started to speed up as he jumped off the bed and sprinted out of the opened door in a split of a second. His eyes caught sight of her was running out of the entrance door, which caused him to run down the stairs quickly. He was not ready to lose her, at least not at this moment. No matter what the result would be, this time he promised himself that he would not let her go as easily as in the past. He couldn't bear losing her for the second time. He didn't want to lose anyone anymore in his life. "Giselle! Stop running!" His demanding voice echoed his big empty house.
She didn't stop no matter how many times he was calling for her. He didn't understand why she was trying to escape when he intended to never hurt her again. His brows wrinkled in frustration as he sped up towards her direction. As soon as he caught up to her, he grabbed her arm with full force to prevent her from fleeing. She started to scream at the same time that she struggled hard in his grip. Dean, who had no clue of what scared her, attempted to calm her down by saying, "It's me. It's me, Dean Winchester."
She bursted crying out loud while she yanked her arms again and again in an effort of freeing herself from him. When he didn't let her go, Giselle responded with her stuttering voice. "You... You fucking psychopath! Let me go. I give up now... I give up now, okay? Please don't kill me... I promise I will... I will forget everything about last night. Just let me go. I don't want... I don't want to die!"
Dean's eyes grew wider in shock as he replied softly, "No, you are not leaving me. You promised me that you were going to be by my side. You can't leave me again. I am not letting you go. I will not hurt you. Nobody can hurt you." He swallowed hard as he pulled her trembled body closer. He wiped her tears lightly with one hand to try to soothe her, but she slapped his hand away vigorously. "I can't let you go. I'm not allowing my father to hurt you ever again. I promise, okay?"
She shook her head persistently in return at the same time she tried to remove herself away from his firm grasp. Through her gritted teeth, she responded breathlessly. "No! I don't want to hear anything. Just shut up! Just-" Her eyes started to roll back before her body lost its strength, making her fall backward.
Dean's arm slipped to hold her waist and tugged her towards him in time, to prevent her from collapsing. He breathed hard when what she said made him felt oddly upset. For a second, he found himself bewildered by his own feeling. How could a simple statement from this woman have such an impact on him? It wasn't a slap neither a bullet, but her words were strangely pricking his heart. Could he possibly have fallen in love with her, like what his father had said? Dean shook his head slightly as he tried to deny his emotion. It wasn't real, was it? He thought before he gulped quietly.
His brows tightly held closer to one another as he picked her up with both of his strong muscular arms. On the way back to his bedroom, he couldn't help, but to debate among himself. How should he protect her? If his father finds out that she didn't die like he was expected, his father would send his men to come and get her in no time. Dean was afraid that this time, it wouldn't just be her who would lose her life, it would be him too. Unlike any other time, Dean felt like he was not prepared to leave. He had to find justice for Ivan and Leo, including a woman in his arms. All he wanted was her to be safe. Perhaps his method and plan would make her hates him at the end, but he was no longer care of the future. As long as she could stay safe and live on happily, he was ready to give up anything just for her.
Dean sighed out loud in stress while he gently laid her down onto the soft bed. He brushed her hair nonchalantly with one hand meanwhile his eyes were staring at her long lashes without a blink. He made his way to the other side of the bed to pull out a drawer. He glanced over at Giselle in apologetic as he took a handcuff out. Due to the fear of waking up to her disappearance for the second time, Dean decided to handcuff her wrist to his.
He shifted in the bed to lift her shirt so that he could take a closer look at her wound on her abdominal, which was neatly stitched. Right after last night's incident, he took her to his new house immediately. Dean gave his order to the lawyer, who owed him a great amount of money, to send him a doctor in the middle of the night. He didn't want to take her to the hospital because he was afraid that Bowen Winchester would not leave her alone.
He pulled a blanket to cover her with his free hand before he turned to lay on one side of his body. To prevent himself from accidentally bumping into her wound, he held her small hand with both of his. His glimmering eyes studied her beautiful side view quietly as if he was trying to remember every inch and detail of it.
Is it wrong if I want her? It is not that I don't love, but I really don't know what that means. What type of emotion and feeling should I have, so that it can be called love? How can I be sure that this is not just a one moment desire? I am worried that it is not what I think it is. How can I love her when I don't even love my own father and mother? Perhaps, everything my father said was meaningless. Maybe it was not what we called love. I did so many bad things to her, and it was unforgivable. Why would someone like me, who my father said that fell in love, do such a thing to her? Shouldn't I be caring and protecting her if I love her? I don't think I ever done any of that.
Dean told himself while his facial expression started to frown without him realizing it. As he gazed at her, he couldn't help, but to lift his free hand up to gently trace her face with his index finger. The tip of his long finger touched her lightly as if she was a fragile glass that would break in any second. His long fingers traced her cheekbone carefully. A smile curved up the corner of his lips involuntarily when her warm breath brushed lightly against his finger. "Maybe I do... love you."
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