Pairing: Eventual Dean x Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: angst, canon violence
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What did you eat last night? After landing back in the United States from your emotional trip in Scotland, you knew you felt sick. Your stomach is upset, your eyes are watery, and you can't seem to keep anything down. What the hell did you eat last night? You know you had the same thing Dean did, but he was perfectly fine. Your head is in the toilet while you dry heave at this point while Dean is in the motel room talking to Lisa on the phone.
Ever since you told Dean off, you kind of felt better. You no longer feel guilty about what you did. Yes, you're still fucking sad about it, but you don't feel guilty. Instead of being hung up on that one event, you're going to try and move past it. Nothing will ever be the same between you and Dean, but you're finding yourself to be okay with that. Maybe what you two needed was to break up. Who knows where you two are going to end up, but you like not knowing.
Before, you knew you would marry Dean one day. You knew you would have kids with him, and eventually give up hunting to raise a big family. Now... well, now, you're not sure where you're going to end up. You're finally on your own, and it feels fucking good not to worry about another person. It might be rude to think about, but you can't help what you feel.
Especially now.
Your stomach tightens and you gag very loudly, but nothing comes out. You haven't eaten anything this morning, and if you want to throw something up, then you'll need to drink water. Luckily, you thought of this before rushing in here, so you grab the water bottle by your side and chug half of it. You finally have a breather, and you hear part of Dean's conversation with Lisa in the next room over.
Does it bug you he's still into her? No. For crying out loud, they have a child together. Does it bug you he still chose her over you? Just a tad, but you remind yourself you need to push him away if you want to start healing. Being in a relationship with Dean isn't as easy as people might think. There are some deep-rooted issues that saw the light for the first time in a long time. Those issues projected themselves onto you, and Dean fought you because of it. He's a good man, he just makes stupid ass decisions.
"But I was thinkin' that, uh, I'll wrap up here, and, y'know, make sure I'm not followed... I'll have to take side streets, and I'd have to come at night–" Dean starts to ramble to Lisa. You assume she cut him off because he stopped himself from going further. "Yeah. Of course."
Oh no, here it comes again.
You move your hair out of the way before you throw up every drop of water you just drank. Dean hears this and hangs up the phone before rushing to your aid. He catches the hair that's fallen and puts it into a makeshift ponytail. He doesn't understand why you're like this especially when you were fine just a few days ago.
He still cares about you, and he really does love you with all his heart, but he knows you won't take him back after what he did. Lisa is waiting for him, and he should be happy he has a family that won't let him go, but it's not a family with you. Why did he have to go and fuck it up like he always does? He let his emotions get in the way of rational thinking, and it's going to take a lot of work on his part to make it all up to you. Not seeing Lisa should be step one, but he can't seem to let her go either. Is he so fucked up in the head that he needs validation from a family? He's stupid to realize now that Lisa was never there for him... you were.
He never needed a kid to be a family with you, and he hates himself for realizing that now.
"Are you okay? This is the second morning you threw up. Are you sure you're not sick?" he asks.
"I'm fine. I just ate something bad. It'll go away by tomorrow. Hopefully," you cough.
You think your stomach has had enough abuse, so you flush the toilet and use Dean's arm as support to stand up. The motel room door opens and Dean leaves the bathroom to greet his brother who comes bearing the news of a new case. You quickly brush your teeth and wash your hands and face before joining them.
"You feeling better?" Sam asks when he sees you.
"Yeah, it's nothing. What do you got?" you ask.
"There have been six girls in seven days, which is more disappearances than this city has seen in over a year–all about the same age," Sam hands fliers of missing girls to you and Dean, and you file through them quickly.
"This sounds like a profile to me. Half a dozen girls, all in their late teens, and just beginning to dip their toes in the pool of adulthood. What else do they have in common?" you wonder.
"There are six directions to go here. Pick a number," Dean chuckles.
"Seven. Another call just came in today," Sam sighs when he checks his phone that beeped.
"I say we start at the recent girl's house and go from there," you suggest and head over to your duffel bag to get changed for the day.
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The recent missing girl, Kristin, has a loving family that tries to look after her. Her house is like any other, and you're not getting any vibes that would tell you why she went missing. Stuff like demonic omens, witchcraft, satanism, or even angelic shit. This house is clean and has been clean from the moment Kristin's father let you into his house.
"Kristin's a good kid. A little naive, sure, but you try to be a good parent. Girls are hard," he winces before he looks at you. "No offense."
"None taken, sir. We just want to find your daughter. What room is hers?" you ask.
"Last door on the left," he motions to the second floor with his head.
"Thanks," Dean nods.
Kristin's father lets you do your thing while he waits downstairs, and you take the lead. The brothers follow closely behind you until you get to her bedroom door.
"Whaddya think he was talking about?" Dean whispers.
"I don't know. Drugs?" Sam whispers back.
You open the door expecting to see it dressed like some kind of hippy room with dream catchers and flowers along with some bongs, but that's not the case at all. You flip on the light to reveal her walls are painted a blood red with black trimming. Posters of the vampire movies are hung up on almost every surface of the wall. Vampire and gothic memorabilia are everywhere they can be. Her bed even has vampire pillowcases and sheets on them. Your mouth hangs open in shock.
You weren't expecting this.
"Oh, it is so much worse," Dean gasps.
"Are you fucking kidding me? Vampires?" you ask as you walk inside.
"Ah, these aren't vampires," Dean shakes his head as Sam closes the bedroom door to reveal a full-size cut-out of a teen heartthrob "vampire". "These are douchebags."
"Yeah," you scoff. "There has to be something in here that will tell us where she might have gone to like a notebook or a laptop."
"I'm way ahead of you," Sam says as he starts flipping back the covers and tossing the pillows aside without a care in the world.
There, underneath one of the pillows, is a blood red laptop with vampire stickers on it.
"Let's see what we can see. Alright," Sam mutters.
He takes the laptop to her desk and takes a seat before opening the computer. Upon him pressing the spacebar, an intense-looking vampire pops up on screen along with a screaming noise. All three of you flinch at the sound. This is all too creepy for you.
"Th-that's just uncomfortable," Sam stutters.
"Let's just see where she's been. Her social media will be able to tell us," you try to rush this process so you can get the hell out of here.
Sam starts pressing keys which brings up a password prompt with the username already entered. You roll your eyes at the barrier so you start looking around the room to see if you can get a clue as to what the password is. You know it has something to do with vampires. On the desk right next to Sam is a book titled "My Summer of Blood" and on the cover is a sleeping woman with a vampire watching her as she sleeps. Dean picks it up in disgust.
"Look at this. He's watching her sleep. How is that not rape-y?"
"I gotta concentrate here, Dean," Sam sighs as he tries in the word "Dracula" as the password.
No dice. Every time the password is entered correctly, the same scream as the scream was heard when the computer turned on sounds. Dean opens the book and starts to read an excerpt from one of the chapters.
"He could hear the blood rushing inside her, almost taste it. He tried desperately to control himself. Romero knew their love was impossible—Romero? Really?" Dean scoffs with a shake of his head.
"Dean. Shut up," Sam sighs when he fails again at the password attempt.
"This is a national bestseller. How is that possible? Hey, try Lautner."
Sam types it in but pauses in confusion after hitting the enter button.
"Wait, he's a werewolf. How do you even know who that is?"
"How do you know he's a werewolf, Sam?" you ask with a grin.
"Yeah. Sam, how?"
"How many T's are there in Pattinson?" he asks, but citrus himself off when the computer allowed him onto the site since Pattinson is the correct password. "That's it. We're in!"
"What's on there?" you ask and approach him from behind.
"Well, her inbox is full from some guy claiming to be a vampire."
"A real vampire?"
"Well, listen to this... 'I can only meet you at night... I don't trust myself with you... the call of your blood is too strong...' Do you think it's vampires fishing for victims?"
"Or it could be a human just pretending to be one," you theorize.
"On the other hand—talk about easy prey," Sam argues, "for actual vampires. I mean, these chicks are just throwing themselves at them. All they gotta do is, I dunno, write bad poetry."
"Wait, read that," you say and point to the place where your eyes are. "It says here they are meeting at a place called The Black Rose."
"Gimme a break," Dean groans and rolls his eyes.
"Don't shoot the messenger here," you say.
"It's probably just your standard-issue perv, right?"
"Only one way to find out."