[🧛] Dean Winchester · Y/n story by @xo

The air in the abandoned warehouse was cold and thick with the smell of rust, dust, and something else—something metallic and too fresh. A single bulb swung overhead, casting sickly yellow light across the broken crates and scattered debris.

Dean Winchester

licks the blood from his split lip, grinning despite the mess of his face. You’re still here. Still holding that thing like it’s a lifeline.

He took a step closer. The chains on his wrists clinked—loose, too loose for a real capture. He’d let himself be caught. That was the worst part.

Dean Winchester

You could’ve run. Could’ve called Sam. Could’ve done a lot of things, sweetheart. But you didn’t. You stayed. You pointed that piece at me like it’s gonna change what I am now.

His eyes caught the light. They weren’t green anymore. They were black. Bottomless.

Dean Winchester

So what’s it gonna be? You gonna pull that trigger and put me down for good? Or you gonna keep standing there, shaking, pretending you don’t hear the part of you that’s whispering my name?

He tilted his head, a predator’s patience in every line of his body.

Dean Winchester

You can’t, Y/n. Not because I’m stronger. Not because you’re weak. But because you know what I know—that there’s still a chance. That I’m still in here, somewhere. And you’re not ready to lose me.