I'm Here

All it takes is Dean to hear you sniffling and barely getting the words out of asking if he can come over. He was on his way to the bar to bury the feelings for you he has been trying to forget. Your voice though—the cry for help— that is all it took for Dean to do a 180 in Baby. Dean never hangs up the phone making sure you know he is on your way. He talks you through calming down but sniffles and sobs still escape. "I'm almost there, babygirl. Almost there," Dean repeated as soothing as he could without wanting to lash out in rage.

"I'm here, sweetheart. Door unlocked?" He asks, only receiving a muffled yes covered with tears. "I'm going to do a quick parameter check before I come inside, okay? I'll be in shortly, babygirl. It's going to be okay," Dean reassures you, unsure if it really does any good considering right now he is thinking the worst.

Carefully opening the front door in order not to startle you, Dean keeps his weapon steady making sure no one is in the house except for you. Dean does not spot you at first, which sends the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Your raspy voice calls to him from the far corner in the kitchen that has been your safety zone since Ryan left.

Dean carefully tries not to step on the broken glass as best as he can with quickly reaching you. He rounds the kitchen counter to find you backed into the corner by the stove. Your knees are pulled to chest with your arms wrapped tightly around your legs—Dean pauses for barely a second because the last time he saw you like this was when he first saved you, all those years ago.

He shakes his head to erase the memory and closes the gap between you. Dean kneels down and you left your head up revealing mascara-stained cheeks. His hair falls partly in front of his eyes that are closely examining your face. Then, Dean sits down beside you scooting back against the cabinet. Pulling you into his arms, you cry into his shirt while listening to him soothe you by reminding you that you are safe. Dean won't let nothing happen to you again.

"It's going to be okay, babygirl. I got you, I got you. Shhh," Dean held you close, gently rocking you in his arms. "Did he hit you?" You shake your head in a frenzy, clenching Dean's t-shirt tighter between your fingers. "Okay, good...smart move," he growled before pressing a hard kiss on top of your head.

"He just lost it, especially when I told him it was over and that I would not choose him over you," you whimpered into his chest. Dean becomes still, swallowing hard upon hearing your confession. "You're more important to me than anyone. Even if we are only, you know, us," mumbled, twisting the fabric of his shirt between your fingers. Dean allows himself to feel this moment and wraps you up tighter in his embrace.

Your sobs become quiet listening to Dean's heartbeat. He holds you, never suggesting for you to move because he won't, not until you're ready. He will hold you all night if that's what you need. For now, you need some first aid before the blood begins to dry on your feet.

"Can you—can you help me get to the bathroom in the hallway please? I think I have glass in my foot," you untuck your legs from beneath you that hid your feet that have blood dripping down the posterior side on both. Dean stands up with urgency and scoops you up in his arms. Your arms drape around his neck, resting your head against his chest. The sound of his fast heartbeat sends a warmth of comfort throughout your body knowing that he is here.

Dean brings you into the small half-bath in the hallway. He sits you on top of the vanity as he kneels down between your legs to dig through the bottom cabinet. Dean finds the first aid kit easily waiting for him to grab right in front of the neatly organized space. Before he stands up, Dean tilts his neck back and gives you a grin.

"You know, sweetheart...," Dean began with a light chuckle, glancing down at the first aid kit in his hands. His green eyes flicker up to you. "As much as I have missed being between your legs, this isn't how I imagined it."

Your face instantly takes on a shade of crimson. You avert your eyes away unable to maintain eye contact with the sexual innuendo that flowed out Dean's mouth with such ease. He rocks back on his heels simultaneously closing the cabinet. He hands you the kit then leans just enough to rest his hands on either side of you on the vanity. You swallow hard and keep your head down searching for what Dean will need to take care of the cuts.

"Here's some tweezers. Some alcohol wipes and gauze," you said quietly as you dig through the kit for nothing else—just trying not to look Dean in the eyes this close to your face.

"(Y/N)," Dean softly whispered.

"I guess you can put a bandaid on it instead—," your hands tremble as you take out whatever you find in the medical kit. Dean notices.

"(Y/N)," Dean said your name again. He lightly bumps his forehead against your's in hopes to make you shift your focus.

"Hmm?" Your eyes focus on fiddling with the random first aid supplies. Dean tilts your chin up with a gentle nudge. He gives you a warm smile that has goosebumps form on your skin.

"Relax, babygirl. I'm here. I'm right here," Dean's lips are so close to your mouth that you can feel his hot breath. Being this close to him has your head spin and your heart twist. All it would take is one slight move and your lips would be on his again like they were so long ago.

Dean feels it, too. That you don't know, maybe just don't want to believe simply because he has continued to argue, more with himself, that the two of you cannot have a relationship. Flirting is easy. Safer.

But it's not....not really anyways.

Dean pulls back some and kisses your cheek. He straightens his stance and holds up one of your injured feet. "Alright, nurse!" Dean decides humor will be the best thing right now instead of romance. "Tweezers!" Dean said in mocking doctor-tone kind of voice, opening up his palm. You huff out a laugh and shake your head. You grab a tissue from the counter and wipe off your feet. Dean arches a brow. "Oh, yeah! Good thinking, nurse!" You giggle at his exaggerated impersonation.

As Dean takes care of you, silence fills the air in the tiny space. When he switches to the other foot, he sits down on the toilet lid getting a better inspection of your cuts. Dean finds one piece of glass that is sticking out just enough for him to grab but he knows it's going to hurt like hell. With a sigh, he winces at you hating that even if it is not him hurting you, it still will feel like it to him.

"This one might hurt a little more because it's really in there, sweetheart. It's also in the soft part of the arch. Just try not to move, okay?" Dean steadies your foot. The glass is difficult for him to grab with the tweezers. His eyes take a glimpse of you gripping tight to the counter with eyes tightly clenched. When you let out a tiny shriek as he digs a little around the glass to get it out, Dean murmurs a slew of names for Ryan.

"All done, babygirl, all done. Let me cover it. Wait," Dean prevents you from moving off the vanity by placing his other hand on your leg. He grips your calf then returns it to your foot to help place the small bandaid. He kisses the top of your foot. "Now, plenty of bed rest and any activity has to be approved and supervised by me," Dean grins. You push his chest with your toes before sliding off the counter to stand. Dean steadies you with his strong hands on either side of your arms.

"Will you—," before you can finish your request, Dean cuts you off with a shake of his head.

"You know you don't have to ask me, especially after tonight. I'll stay, sweetheart. I'll keep you safe," Dean answered in a husky tone. He slides his hands up your arms for him to cup your face between them. His thumb gently rubs your cheek as the two of you stare intensely at one another. Dean presses his forehead against yours as he keeps your face enveloped in his hands.

"Dean..."

"I should have been here," Dean grumbled. "I should have fucking took you home tonight."

You shake your head not caring tears are streaming down your cheeks. "You cannot blame yourself. I should have been more careful," you sniffled. Dean growls. "Don't do that," you slightly laugh in between sniffling.

Dean rears back, smirking. "Do what, sweetheart? Growl? Growl like I'm some territorial animal and someone has messed with my mate?" Your eyes widen. "I've seen your romance books, remember? Your dirty books," he wiggles his brows.

"Shut up," you playfully push your palm against his chest. Dean catches your wrist in a gentle grasp. His eyes quickly notice reddened marks on your skin that has not faded from earlier events. Embarrassed, you pull away and head out into the hallway.

"Sweetheart, wait. I need to see the rest of you," Dean called out, following you to your bedroom. You head towards your dresser pulling something to sleep in. Dean's reflection in the mirror above the dresser catches your eye.

You turn around facing Dean who immediately places his hands on your hips. The way he holds you place makes you feel safe. That he has you and nothing bad will happen. You peer up at Dean through your wet lashes. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as he softly smiles. When he presses his lips against your forehead leaving them there for a moment, you wish for things to be different.

Different for the both of you in a simple world that would allow for you and him to have a healthy relationship without any difficulty. That the most complicated issue would be what to have for dinner every night like most couples.

When Dean pulls away, he notices you gaze up at him in a way he has only seen you do a handful of times. Dean catches how your mouth slightly parts while your bloodshot eyes stare into his soul. The way you stare at him with love and compassion breaks down the walls he continues to build for himself against anyone who might love him, especially you. However, you break those walls easily though just by being near him.

And it scares the hell out of him.

The sound of his phone ringing takes the both of you out of the mystic trance that is held over the two of you. Dean takes his phone out of his jacket holding it up to show you Sam flashing across the screen.

"I'll um, I'll go get ready for bed," you said quietly hitching a thumb towards the adjoining bathroom. Dean nodded and answered the phone.

After giving Sam a recap of tonight's events, Dean sits on the edge of your bed waiting for you to come out the bathroom. His mind puts dark thoughts about Ryan and what he did to you on repeat. The shower turning off causes Dean to shift his train of thought on the bathroom door. His eyes bore into it as if he can see right through the wooden door. Visions of you stepping out dripping wet wrapping a towel around you has him do his best to keep himself in check. What he would give to be behind that door with you and kiss away every mark that asshat left behind. Thoughts of the two of you from when he returned from purgatory try to persuade him to just barge into the bathroom and bend you over the sink. He becomes too lost in his own dirty visions of you and him that he does not hear the blow dryer shut off. The moment you step out into the bedroom his lustful thoughts become replaced with more loving ones.

Until he takes you in full view standing in front of him that is.

"Um, is that what you are sleeping in?" Dean adverts his eyes from gawking at your long legs. He remembers what they felt like being draped over his shoulders as he plowed you into the very same mattress he is sitting on.

No matter where he looks, your body is begging for him to take. The torturous display of just enough cleavage teases him to burry his head in between them. He knows tonight is not the time to be having these thoughts about you. Tonight you just need him to protect you.

"What's wrong with it? I can go change," you hurry over to your dresser to open up the second drawer. Maybe you should have put on shorts, but the baggy t-shirt and boyshorts underwear just sounded more comfortable even if it's revealing. Yet, you cannot help but to have noticed how quickly Dean readjusted himself in his jeans as soon as you stepped into the room. As you recall the moment, you clench your thighs together wanting him to spread them apart. Dean suddenly appears behind you.

"Don't," Dean whispered right next to your ear as his hands go to either side of your arms. He gently rubs them with his calloused hands making you feel secure in your clothing choice. "Come on, babygirl. Let's get you to bed," Dean places a kiss on the back of your neck. You let out a shaky breath with a nod.

You notice that even though you have climbed into bed, Dean has not joined you. He catches the crinkled nose and tilted head you wear while watching him head towards the door.

"I'm going to check everything. I'll be back, sweetheart. Don't worry," Dean explained softly before heading out to inspect the locks and make sure the house is safe.

You let out a sigh of relief curling up more in the sheets. You are not sure what will happen tomorrow, but at least for tonight you can enjoy the company of Dean even if it is due to an unfortunate situation.

Thoughts of when Dean returned from purgatory begin playing in your mind while waiting on him to return to the bedroom. You know better not to think about those days. Anytime you replay those ravishing moments you cannot stop the heat that pools between your thighs.

Now is not the time...