Who's The Real Monster?

Dean sneaks out of bed once you have fallen deep asleep that you barely move when he slides his arm out from beneath you. He got an hour of sleep so he's good for now. Not like he is use to getting long naps anyways. He slips on his clothes all while taking in the sight of you sleeping peacefully. He quietly closes the bedroom door behind him and heads down towards the kitchen. Taking note of the time, he knows you will wake up wanting dinner, if you wake up in the next hour or so.

The exhaustion plastered over your face ate Dean up inside. Many thoughts on what could have been done differently about the Ryan situation taunt him as he grabs a beer from the fridge. At least now you agreed to go back to the bunker with him. He can protect you better unlike here so far away. That's not the main reason though. He's tired of running from you and denying any sort of feelings he's had towards you since the day you met him.

Dean's phone lights up with a call from Alyssa. As he answers it, the noisy background commotion from a bar welcomes him before the caller.

"Ryan's here," Alyssa spurted out. "Get your ass down here now, Dean!" Behind your best friend's speech, Sam is heard speaking more rational thoughts in the background. "I don't care, Sam! If you or Dean don't go kick his ass, then I will!" There's a scuffle then Dean hears his baby brother sighing heavily.

"She's had a couple of shots of tequila, but she's right. I've been keeping tabs on him since he's walked in. Pretty brave of him to be walking around here as if he's not a wanted man," Sam informed him. Taking one last sip of his beer, he sets it down and heads to get his boots while listening to Sam tell him more about the prick's behavior. "But, Dean... he's hanging out with one of the cops I noticed earlier who was at her house. I'm thinking he has a few of them in his back pocket. Probably why that one officer was hesitant in handing (Y/N) over to Jody," Dean pauses writing the note he's leaving for you. This asshole would know people in the police department. With the phone held between his ear and shoulder, Dean scribbles out a note for you incase you wake up while he is gone.

"Don't let him leave. I'm on my way," Dean hangs up, shoving his phone in his back pocket before he takes one last look at you sleeping peacefully in bed. He lowly chuckles at the sight of you sprawled out, hands above your head, and every worry erased from your face. Dean realizes he's going to need a bigger bed for you and him.

"For us," he thinks to himself.

*********************************************

You wake up to a darkened bedroom and an empty bed. Rolling over in the tangled sheets, the clock reveals it's after 7pm. It takes you a moment to realize Dean isn't in the bed as you begin to feel around for him. Pushing up on the mattress, you flip on the lamp and check your cell. Nothing from Dean on your screen. The silence noted all around has you realize he isn't anywhere inside the house. Your heart hammers against your chest as you throw the blanket back, quickly grabbing a t-shirt and underwear before rushing out the bedroom.

"Dean?" You try to tamper down the fear bubbling up from your chest while rushing down the hallway. As soon as you flip on the light in the kitchen, you spot a piece of paper next to a beer bottle that's over half full.

            I had to go take care of something. Text me after you read this so I know you are awake. Everything is alright. I'll be back later tonight.                                           I love you.                                                   ~Dean

Shaky hands accidentally crinkle the paper gripped between them. Your feet tug you into the living room but you refuse to sit down and relax. You send Dean a text. The living room floor feels as if it might breakdown into a sink hole with how much you pace awaiting Dean to respond. Needing a distraction, you head into the kitchen and grab a bottle of wine along with a glass. You hold up the glass then glance at the bottle. The glass returns to its place in the cabinet while the bottle gets tucked under your arm before heading back into the living room.

*********************************************

"Wakeup, sweetheart," you hear Dean softly attempt to wake you up from the wine thoroughly relaxing you. It takes a second before you realize he's actually there and its not a dream. Gripping the couch cushion, your eyes fly open finding Dean smiling down at you. Your arms fling around his neck and pull him down on top of you peppering his face with kisses, not paying much attention to detail. Instead of laying completely on top of you, Dean pulls you into his lap as he sits back into the sofa.

"Where did you go?" You asked, still kissing along any space of skin your lips can reach. You taste a little blood which has you stop and examine his face. "Why is there blood on your face? Oh God, what happened?" Your loving affection comes to a halt as you cradle his face between your hands. "Dean, what is the blood from?" He glances off to the side, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth. "Dean!"

Dean gradually turns his attention back to you. "I did what I do best, sweetheart. I took care of a monster and he won't bother you anymore—with a little help from karma I suppose," his grim tone has your heart drop to your stomach.

"What did you do?" Your face pales. "Please tell me you didn't do something you didn't need to actually do." Dean notices the unexpected reaction you give him. Rage washes over him causing Dean to pick you up like a child and plop you on the sofa in order for him to stand.

Dean takes a couple steps forward then turns on his heel with his arms across his chest. "I got word that Ryan was at the bar. I went to go confront him. One thing lead to another and next thing I know Sam is pulling me off Ryan before I beat him into the ground," Dean shrugged. His story though isn't adding up to him acting a little off.

"Okay... what else happened?" You push up from the sofa and carefully approach him. "There's something else you're not telling me, Dean. I can see it in your eyes." He flinches when you graze a finger over the abrasion on his cheek. Despite knowing it probably hurts, something about the way he recoils from your touch has your stomach tighten.

Dean steps back, running a hand through his hair. "When Ryan left the bar, I almost went after him again but Sam told me to just leave him be. That I already beat his ass enough he probably won't return to work for awhile until his pretty boy face heals," Dean barely smirked, telling you that whatever else he's about to say you aren't going to like. "He um, he wrecked his truck, (Y/N)."

Your face twisted at his comment. Dean heavily sighed, his eyes darting anywhere but at you. His phone rings breaking the rising tension. When he takes it out his pocket, his eyes close briefly before he answers it.

"Jody, hey," Dean's eyes open slowly revealing more anguish than moments ago. "Yeah," Dean answered. He locks eyes with you and holds up a finger. You nodded, wrapping your arms around your body as you sit back down on the couch. He walks out of the living room and then you hear the front door open and close.

You grab your cell off the end table. Several texts from Alyssa and a couple missed calls from her as well as Jody. You didn't realize your phone automatically switched over to do not disturb mode with it being late at night. That sinking feeling in your stomach becomes more prominent as you open the texts from your best friend.

(Y/N), call me. Its about Ryan.

(Y/N), I had to tell Dean. If he or Sam wasn't going to do something, then I was and Sam reminded me I can't risk my nursing license. Of course I would find a man who is the voice of reason 🙄

(Y/N), please call me ASAP. I need to talk to you!

Your head jerks up hearing the door open. Dean closes it behind him but hesitates from taking anymore steps into the house. He yells out in frustration "son of a bitch!" before dragging a hand over his face that he then curls into a tight fist. Placing your phone on the coffee table, shakey hands struggle to push yourself up from the comfort of the couch to head towards Dean. He paces in the foyer, keeping his sights set on the floor, hands on his hips in typical Dean-like fashion.

"Hey...," you cautiously approach Dean like a wounded animal. Before you can say anything else, Dean lifts his weary gaze and something about the way he looks at you has vomit rise to your throat, shoving it down as best as possible.

"What I am about to tell you, I didn't cause it. I need you to understand that," Dean is now the one approaching you with vigilance. You freeze in place. "Ryan wrecked his truck. He was drinking and driving, obviously. He smelled like a damn distillery already when I approached him in the bar," Dean cleared his throat, closing the void created between you and him. He takes your hands within his and gapes at them until you pull away wrapping your arms around yourself. Dean raises his head. "He wrecked his truck...and when police got to the scene, he was barely alive. They also discovered some missing narcotics that were stolen recently from the ICU floor of the hospital."

"What?" You barely could get anything else out except that one word as Dean observes your reaction.

"There was a blindfold...handcuffs... a copy of your work schedule, (Y/N). Your next shift was circled on the paper. They think he was planning on taking you whenever you worked next. Jody is still putting some pieces together but she called to tell me that tomorrow you'll have to give another statement to the police in regards to everything," Dean exhaled heavily. You step back, unsure on how to take this shocking news.

"Did Ryan....," you swallowed hard, glancing away from Dean, as your mind tries to process everything. "Did he surv—," Dean slowly shakes his head. Your breath hitches in your throat. Tears become visible in your eyes that you try to blink away but Dean already has witnessed your reaction.

"You should feel relieved," Dean said gruffly. You narrowed your eyes at him before moving away from him to find the first bottle of wine you can see in the kitchen. "Really? That's your coping mechanism for this?" The snarky tone has you pause and slowly turn on the ball of your foot.

"You're one to talk," you retorted quickly. Dean's heated focus zeroes in on you as he stomps his way into the kitchen.

"You are this upset over the man that tried to kidnap you, maybe would have killed you, and apparently was going to do it again but drug you for a higher success rate?" Dean scoffed, his face twisting up as he tries to understand why you are reacting the opposite what he expected.

You open the wine you found and pour yourself a full glass. You take a swig first before responding to him. The heat from his glare radiates off of him standing so close to you. "I didn't want him to die! I don't want anyone to die!" You raised your voice, taking Dean aback. "Yes, I didn't want to be with him and I was scared to death but fuck, I didn't want him to die," shaking your head, you take another gulp of your wine and push your way around Dean. He marches up quickly and grabs you by the arm that you snatch away from him. "Don't touch me right now," the sneering tone takes Dean again by surprise. Then, you see the look of that cord snapping inside of him as he glances down then back up with his smartass smirk.

"Okay, (Y/N), whatever the fuck you say. Just know I didn't kill the love of your life, got it?" His sarcasm cuts deep. Dean begins to storm off, but you aren't finished with this crap storm that has further developed.

"I love you, you moron! I know you didn't kill him but I do have the empathy to feel for others! He does have family that care about his fucked up self!" Dean's boots come to a halt upon you lashing out. He takes a glimpse over his shoulder then leaves the house in an angry flash, slamming the door so hard that the picture frames on the wall rattle.

As you sink to the cold kitchen floor, you struggle with the raw emotions cutting into you like a dull knife. Despite the relief knowing Ryan will never come after you again, the consuming guilt of his family losing him, even if he was a sick son of a bitch, nags at your conscience. You had some good times with Ryan up until the universe reminded you of the man you truly love—Dean. For now, you drink yourself into a dark slumber trying to numb away the pain of the recent events. Maybe its time to find a new coping mechanism.

*********************************************

"Well, what did you expect, Dean? She's not cold and heartless. Even if she would have killed him herself in self-defense, she still would have been worked up over it," Alyssa defended you as Dean vented to her and Sam about how you took the news of Ryan. Dean doesn't say anything except takes another sip of his beer.

Sam sighed, taking Dean's attention away from the glass bottle. "She's right, Dean. We know how to unfortunately shove our emotions down in order to do what is right but (Y/N)? Despite knowing the truth of what is really out there in the world, she still isn't living this nightmare daily. We did our best to protect her from that after we saved her so long ago," Sam added to Alyssa's defense.

Dean nodded, taking in his brother's words, even Alyssa's opinion. He didn't say anything else, just laid back in the patio chair on Alyssa's porch trying to lock down his own emotions. Sam taps Alyssa's leg, signaling to give Dean some space and head inside. They head towards the door but before Sam followed Alyssa inside, he stopped beside his brother and placed a hand on his shoulder. They both exchanged silence glances knowing what they both were saying without having to utter a word—Sam is there for him but he will give Dean some space to process tonight. As soon as the door closed, Dean let his mask fall as he sat there staring up at the night sky wondering where to go from here.