Take Me Home

One Week Later

The rain steadily falling at the cemetary creates a haunting melody on the umbrella you hold shakily above your head. You stare at the freshly dug grave site with Ryan's headstone becoming burned into your memory. Ryan's funeral was held yesterday, a huge gathering of family, friends, and colleagues. Sam attended alongside you and Alyssa. You didn't expect Dean to attend, if anything, you were relieved he didn't show.

You needed a moment to come visit the grave without anyone's judging, gawking stares. Too many individuals whispered amongst theirselves when you arrived at the service. Alyssa helped you hold your head high, despite all the gossipers questioning why you were there. You thought you had closure when you left the scene of the crash, which you still do, but seeing his casket lowered into the ground the day before helped to give you that final clarification that Ryan is gone.

You leave the cemetery with thoughts on calling Dean. The two of you have done what you both do best, self-sabatoge. Not much conversation has occurred between you and Dean since he stormed out of your house about a week ago. You do admit, you did hang up on him one time. During a three minute phone call, he informed you that he and Sam will be heading back to Kansas in two days, with or without you. You decide to call Dean on your way home, hoping he will agree to your invitation to come over and talk. He answers on the first ring, immediately agreeing to your request.

As you pull into the driveway, you sit back into the driver's seat wondering how your encounter with Dean will result, considering the two of you haven't been your best selves. The beating of the rain on top your car is almost soothing even though you know you should get inside soon. With much willpower, you drag yourself inside the house, a tad wet from the rain, and head to freshen up before the most handsome man on the planet strolls through your front door. Flipping on a light inside the foyer, you lock the front door and make your way to the bedroom with thoughts continuing to circle around Dean. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, the way your wet hair sticks to your face brings forth a memory that you try to keep tucked away.

The reunion between you and Dean when he returned to Purgatory flashes in your mind. Sure, the two of you finally acted on the sexual desires that has been harbored for years, but the whole situation ended with heavy heartbreak. Recently, you've been afraid that if you and him don't "get your shit together" per Alyssa, that this will end in heartbreak as well, maybe a permanent one.

Flashback

You and Dean stand outside your house in the early morning fog. Rain pours from the sky like teardrops. You barely can stand thanks to Dean twisting and bending your body in ways you didn't know was even possible. However, its not just the physical activity that has your legs wobbly, its the weighted emotion pulling your body down to the ground as you attempt to prepare for Dean to walk away, no matter how much you beg him not to go.

"Do you not get that I am too damn old for you? I am only going to hold you back, or worse, get you killed because you simply know me," Dean exhales, appearing defeated as he stares back at you.

"Ten years, Dean, ten years! Seriously? And you aren't going to hold me back! Just stop being afraid and let us both be happy! Why won't you allow yourself to be happy?" You raised your voice, choking on your own torturous sobs.

"Because I'm not meant to have a happy ending. I have had too many close calls to be happy. Hell, I've died and came back. Why put you through that?"

"Dean, just...please...let's go back inside and talk about this,"  you begged, knowing deep down he will remain stubborn.

Dean shakes his head. He lowers his head and shove his hands so tight in his pockets in order not to grab ahold of you.

"No, (Y/N), I need to go. I'll call you in a few days," Dean glances up a little too long. Just long enough where you reach out to touch him but he flinches away. Dean heads towards his car and gets in ready to get the hell out of Dodge. He takes one more longing stare at you feeling his heart get ripped out of his chest.

You drop to the ground along with the rain falling harder, just like the tears pouring down your face.

Puffing out a long exhale, you force a smile to reflect in the mirror as you prepare to take a quick shower. You go through the motions of washing up while your inner demons torture you, taunt you like high school bullies. Once you step out the hot shower, you dry off and put on some clothes. As you begin wiping away the fog upon the vanity mirror, your hand freezes in mid air when your weary sight takes in the out-of-nowhere message written amongst the fogged glass.

You're mine!

A tight, burning sensation spreads across your chest. You grab the doorknob and realize it refuses to turn. "What the hell?" you whispered loudly to yourself. Panic sets in. This isn't possible. A pair of shakey hands continue trying to open the door but have no luck. Someone or something has locked you inside the bathroom. Of course your phone is charging on the nightstand so no way to call anyone for help either. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice something in the mirror taking your focus away from your escape. A new message is written—

You'll never escape me...

***********************************************BAM BAM BAM*

The heavy pounding coming from the opposite side of the bathroom door jerks your head up from resting on your legs that are pulled to your chest. Muffled sounds and grunts are heard as your rescueer continues to beat down the door. Then, you hear that one specific voice loud and clear, bringing you to realization that this is real.

"Baby? I'm here. I'm here," Dean's strong but desperate tone helps the breath you've been holding be released. The rest of your body is temporary paralyzed from fear that held you captive continued to mess with you during your lock down.

Dean is able to burst open the door, startling you regardless knowing its just him. A pair of frightened, green eyes gawk at the sight of you trembling against the bathtub. The fear swept across your face twists Dean's old, hunter's heart. His stare darts over to the mirror noticing the last written message by someone, something that left it behind.

He can't love you like I can.

Dean takes cautious steps towards you, swooping you up in his shielding embrace. His jaw remains clenched feeling your body shudder in his arms. Something horrific happened and like in the past, he was not here to protect you. The warmth from his body washes over you providing reassurance everything is going to be alright. Dean lays you down on your bed, but soon realizes you aren't dropping your arms from around his neck.

Dean chuckles, "Um, sweetheart, I need you to release that tight grip there so I can go check things out." You shake your head against his chest as he continues to hover over the bed with you beneath him. "Come on now. Be a good girl, hmm?" Dean nipped at your earlobe, enjoying how you react from his playful affection.

You drop your arms and let Dean finish laying you safely on top of the bed. He kisses your forehead then takes off to check out the house. Dean's colorful mind races with what the hell happened in that bathroom. He knows what it could be, who it most likely is, despite him wanting to deny it. Upon his search of major activity in the bathroom, he doesn't find anything suspicious though. His heavy boots fade away down the hallway as you lay upon the fluffy blanket beneath you providing comfort. Your eyes begin to close, exhausted from being terrified until your hero arrived.

Next thing you know, Dean is curling up behind you in bed. You fell asleep while he checked out the house for anything that might have clued him in with what happened. His nose nudges the nape of your neck before his lips find your skin. Rolling over onto your back, you're met with the sweetest, sexiest grin anyone has ever had. Bundles of nerves twist amongst each other in your empty stomach. His calloused fingers tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, trailing down to your jawline, gently grasping your chin.

"Are you okay?" Dean murmured as his eyes roamed your face for any scratch. He drops his hand from your chin, only to move it behind your head, cradling it carefully. Shutting your eyes, you slowly shake your head. "What the hell happened in there, sweetheart?"

Peering back up at Dean, you let out a shakey breath and begin explaining what you experienced inside the locked bathroom. Dean keeps his gaze locked on you. He listens intently, keeping his emotions in check. Once you finish, he moves his hand from behind your head and pushes up from the bed with the other one. You watch Dean pace in your bedroom with his hands on hips in typical fashion. He then turns on his heel, running his tongue over his top lip. Such a tease, but now is not the time for dirty deeds.

"By chance, sweetheart, do you happen to have anything of that asshat's belongings?" Dean quirked a brow. Your nose crinkled, shaking your head. "(Y/N), I need you to think really hard, okay?"

You gasped playfully, pushing yourself up from the bed by your elbows. "How dare you use my actual name, Dean!" you giggled, but apparently the hot, smoldering man standing rigidly in your bedroom does not believe so.

Dean drops his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as he groans. He lifts his gaze and gives a half-ass smile. "Babygirl, please think. Is there anything of Ryan's here?" Dean steps towards the bed. He sits on the side of it, then wraps a large hand around your waist and brings you against him. "Think, (Y/N). Anything that belonged to him, especially something that held meaning," his fingers run across your smooth skin exposed from your shirt lifted up, providing extra comfort that he knows you need.

Glancing away, you chew on your bottom lip while you go through your mind of anything you have that might have belonged to Ryan. You don't have any of his clothes. Nothing personal from him. You burned all of your pict—

Shit. You jerk your head back towards Dean.

"There's a picture...from the crash site," you winced, knowing he is going to want more answers. Those green eyes you love go wide before narrowing into slits. "I stopped at the crash site a week ago. There was a picture he kept in his truck of the two of us just flapping in the wind, like calling out to me to snatch it up," you admitted, despite the churning in your stomach.

Jealousy flashes across Dean's face. He closes his eyes briefly before snapping them back open, the envy tucked away for now. "You have it?" Dean gritted between his teeth.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"Get it, (Y/N) (Y/M/N)," Dean middle-named you as if you are a child. You swallow hard, scooting away from him in order to move off the bed.

Your mind goes in complete disarray trying to recall the location of the photograph. Glancing over your shoulder, you catch Dean's intense glare watching you go about your bedroom trying to remember where the photograph is located. Heavy feet hit the floor behind you, a shadowy blur moving past you exiting the bedroom.

"Dean? What are you doing?" you asked, leaning back to peer down the hallway.

"Trying to help you find the damn photograph!" Dean hollered from somewhere in the house. Rolling your eyes, you continue your search unable to find the object. After a few minutes, you head out to find Dean, discovering him sitting in one of the large chairs in the living room.

"Hey," you said quietly behind him. Dean tilts his head slightly. "Any luck?"

"No," he answered sharply. Letting out a sigh, you step closer with the ache to touch him. Part of you hesitates because of the rising tension developing between the two of you. Your hand drops to your side, a sickening feeling originating in your stomach once again.

"I cannot remember what I did with it. I know I kept it, just no clue where I put it," sliding your hands into your back pockets, you take a glimpse around the living room hoping to remember where the hell you left that photograph. You don't notice the flash of hurt swept over Dean's face at the mention of you keeping a picture of you and your ex-boyfriend.

Dean scoffed. He opens his mouth to say something but at that moment, the lights begin to flicker.

"(Y/N), I need you out this house now!" You nod vigorously, not daring to argue as the weird occurrence begins happening again. As you pull open the front door, a heavy force jerks it from your grip and slams it shut. You hear a clanking sound and grunt coming from the fireplace. You barely catch a glimpse of Dean near it grabbing something from it before something powerful tosses you against the wall creating a loud thud echoing throughout the house.

"Hey! Show yourself, you son of a bitch!" Dean's voice is laced with rage and fear. You take a moment to fully open your eyes but when you finally are able to do so, you discover Dean creating a ring of salt around you.

"Do not leave this spot, sweetheart. Do you understand?" Dean grips your shoulders, keeping his sights set on your fearful gaze, nodding without a word. "Good girl," he leans forward and places a quick kiss on your forehead before he takes off.

"Where are you going?!" you hollered, noticing Dean take off in a different direction in the house. The lights flicker rapidly before finally coming to a stop. "Dean!" You then hear grunts and groans, objects being banged about as the lights throughout the house amp up again.

"Found it!" Dean's voice echoes from the laundry room. Of course, you left it in your dirty jeans from that day and haven't felt up to doing laundry. Dean knows you well, always leaving stuff in your pockets. You then hear him loudly groan along with a hard thud against something hard, leaving you to assume he's laid out on the floor.

The front door swings open allowing a huge gust of wind to sweep through the house, wiping away the salt circle. The door slams shut. Right in front of you, Ryan's spirit fizzles in front of you until finally he is able to regulate himself and stands before you. In a flash, his cold hand is wrapped around your throat before tossing you across the room. Flashbacks from when the basterd was alive come to your mind, reminding you that you can get out of this. You have to...

"You're mine, (Y/N). Once I get rid of your boy toy, I'm taking you with me," Ryan growled, pulling you up from the floor no matter how hard you fight it. "You think that guy wants you? Please," he scoffed, rolling his eyes but not letting his death grip loosen. "You've pined after him as long as I've known you. Its time for you to come with me, you little bitch! Let him feel what it is like to want something he can't have!" he roared, his eerie voice shaking the the whole house.

"Hey, doc!" Dean calls out to Ryan in a smartass tone, wearing a big grin the moment you are able to lay your eyes on him walking into the living room. Ryan drops you to the floor as he rushes towards Dean, but the ghostly asshat is too late. Dean lights the photograph on fire sending Ryan back to where he belongs.

Dean's gaze observes Ryan crumble to ash before coming to your rescue in the same spot your ghostly ex-boyfriend dropped you. With knees to chest, you keep your arms wrapped around your legs despite Dean kneeling down in front of you.

Dean reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Hey, sweetheart. You okay?"

You lift your heavy eyes, bloodshot and exhausted easily shown in them. "No," you replied quietly. Dean sucks in a sharp breath. "I want to go home," you choked out, the corner of your mouth curving upwards at Dean's confused expression.

"But, baby...," Dean huffed out a small laugh. "You are home," he shakes his head, studying your face until realization hits him. Green eyes widen before you. "You mean, with me? Back to the bunker?"

Placing a hand against his cheek, you feel the slowing of your heart rate as you peer into the sweetest pair of eyes you've ever seen. Tears moistened that green gaze of his, but never leave his eyes as Dean grins, taking in your beauty as if he's never done so before. Sure, you agreed you will go back and live with Dean, but not much else has been said or planned really since all the ruckus with Ryan, especially since you both have acted like children. What you don't know is that there has been a taunting voice in the back of Dean's mind telling him you will not live with him and stay behind. The same song and dance his monsters in his head tried to remind him of, that he doesn't deserve to be happy. You erased those fears and demons by a simple sentence.

"With you, Dean. I want to go home."