Warnings: Abandonment, Depression, Anxiety, Panic Attack, Swearing, Mentions of Character Death
Word Count: 5100ish
Summary: After the sudden and unexpected push into a new and unknown life, the reader finally crumbles under the weight of it all.
A/N: Spoilers: The reader’s panic attack is based off my own experiences with panic attacks. I know we all experience them differently, but this is how mine usually go down and how someone helps coax me out of them. Hope you all like this chapter! Feedback is much appreciated!
“Home sweet home, I guess,” Dean said as he shut the front door behind the three of you. He looked around the living room and then down at you with an awkward smile. You didn’t return it.
“I’m going to make dinner,” You responded simply.
You handed Jenny over to him and she let out an excited squeal, “Unca Bean!”
Just for a second, Dean saw your stone-face shatter at her words. But just as quickly as your expression broke, you had already picked up the pieces and hardened it, turning towards the kitchen to make supper.
It had taken you longer than usual to prepare dinner. Dean could see you struggling with the knobs and buttons on the unfamiliar stove and could make out the curses you hissed throughout your trial and error. Dean had offered to help only to have you ignore him, leaving him to occupy his time with entertaining Jenny.
“Unca Bean!” She squealed, grabbing at the stuffed purple rabbit he hopped in front of her face. Dean saw your shoulders tense at her voice. It wasn’t hard for him to notice that whenever Jenny said his name, your body would stiffen and then let out a long calming breath. Although Jenny was the one causing each moment, Dean couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly guilty.
“Unca Beeeeeannnn…” Jenny whined in annoyance at the lack of attention. Dean looked down at her and gave her a smile as he hopped the rabbit up and down once more.
Jenny laughed and followed the bouncing bunny with her hands.
“Bummy! Bummy! Bummy!” She chanted.
“That’s right, Jenny! You know what awesome Uncle bought you this super cool bunny?” He asked. She stared up at him quizzically and he pointed to himself, mouthing his name to her.
“Unca Bean!” She answered.
“That’s right!” Dean praised, rubbing the rabbit in her face. She laughed and tugged her precious “Bummy” away from him, enveloping it in a hug.
“You know who helped me buy it? The best aunt in the world,” Dean said, pointing to your back by the stove. Jenny glanced at you and then back at Bummy, stroking its ears lovingly. It was clear her attention was elsewhere.
“Jenny…Hey, Jenny!” Dean said, giving Jenny a little poke on her nose. She looked up at Dean in confusion. “Who’s the best aunt, Jenny? Come on,” He pointed towards you. “Say Auntie Y/N!”
Jenny looked back at you and then back at Dean. There was a long hopeful pause until Jenny finally said, “No.”
“No?” Dean repeated, shocked and disappointed. He looked at your back and saw your shoulders had slumped.
“No, Unca Bean!” Jenny repeated, swinging her Bummy by the ear. “Bummy and Unca Bean pway.”
“Auntie Y/N wants to play too, probably,” Dean tried once more.
“No, no, no,” Jenny said, her voice becoming exasperated as she waved Bummy at Dean. “Bummy and Bean. Bummy and Bean!”
“Okay, okay. I hear you, kiddo,” Dean sighed. He took one more glance at you to see your hand tightly gripping the counter. He looked away guiltily and continued to play with Jenny.
Dinner was difficult to enjoy with the heavy atmosphere floating around the table. Conversation was nonexistent and Dean chewed his spaghetti while watching you absentmindedly twirl your noodles with your fork, staring down at them with a detached expression.
“Dinner tastes delicious, Y/N,” Dean complimented, attempting to strike up some form of communication.
You looked up at him then back down at your food. “It’s just spaghetti,” you responded, voice lacking emotion entirely.
“Still good…Jenny definitely seems to think so,” Dean said, pointing his fork at his niece. Jenny was sitting in her high chair, blissfully palming the spaghetti in her bowl and practically shoving her whole fist in her mouth to enjoy the noodles. Dean chuckled but you merely glanced at Jenny and then turned your attention back to poking your food.
“What do you say to Auntie Y/N for making dinner?” Dean asked Jenny in a sing-song voice. Jenny just stared back up at him in confusion.
“Say ‘Thanks Auntie Y/N!’” Dean tried again. Jenny threw a noodle at him in response.
“Aw, Jen…” He jokingly complained, wiping the noodle off his face while she giggled. “Come on, Jenny. Say ‘Thanks Auntie Y/N!’”
“Dean, stop it,” You suddenly cut in. Dean looked up at you in surprise.
“Why? She’ll say your name eventually if we keep asking,” He insisted.
“She doesn’t wanna say it so don’t force it,” You snapped, digging your fork into your plate. “Just drop it, Dean.”
“I’m sorry, I just-”
“It’s fine,” You interrupted. You got up from your seat and took your plate of untouched food and dumped it in the trash can. You washed your dish and then put it in the dishwasher. You turned to find Dean staring at you with concern.
“I’m not really hungry. I think I’m gonna turn in early actually. Long day…we can finish unpacking tomorrow. You alright with doing the dishes?”
Dean wanted to say something. Find the words that could make you open up, but all he came up with was, “Yeah.”
With that you turned, grabbed a duffel of your clothes and toiletries, and walked up the stairs. The sound of a door shutting made Dean flinch and he placed his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes exhaustedly.
You were able to help him open up so easily. When he had succumbed to depression you were able to pull him back out of it. Yet it seemed he was useless when the duty of picking you up fell to him. In his attempts at cheering you up, he had only made it worse and pushed you farther away from him.
He sighed and opened his eyes, looking over at Jenny to see her covered in spaghetti sauce.
“Holy shit, Jen,” Dean laughed, grabbing his napkin and wiping her face.
“Holy shit!” She mimicked through a smile.
“Crap. No, no Jenny. Don’t say that word,” Dean begged, remembering all the times he had ignored you criticizing his language in front of her.
“Crap!” She repeated, giggling. How the hell did she only get that word out of his sentence? She had to be fucking with him. Dean shook his head and decided it would be best to keep his mouth shut as he cleaned her up.
After finishing up the dishes and playing with Jenny for a little bit longer, his niece’s drooping eyes were a sign that maybe it was time to turn in as well.
“Come on, lil ankle biter,” He said, hoisting Jenny up in his arms. She nestled her head in the crook of his shoulder and Dean tried to keep his heart from bursting as her tiny hands rested on his shoulders.
He walked up the stairs and scanned the different doors. He guessed that you were inside the master bedroom and despite the urge he had to go in a check up on you, he decided it would be best to leave you alone for a while. He’d done enough damage for one night.
His eyes traveled down the hall, landing what looked like a guest bedroom that he decided to bunk claim it as his own. He scanned past the hallway bathroom and focused on the brightly colored room at the end.
Curiously, Dean walked inside the room and was pleasantly surprised to see Bobby and Jody had prepared a nursery for Jenny. The walls were painted yellow with wallpaper of sheep hopping over fences bordering the ceiling. The room consisted of a crib, changing station, dresser, toy box, and a pile of stuffed animals that was pushed against the wall.
Dean whistled, “Would yah look at this, Jen.”
Jenny didn’t respond and he looked down to see his baby niece asleep with her mouth hanging open, drooling against his shoulder. Dean chuckled and walked over to the changing station. She stirred a bit and opened her eyes. Dean could see the pout starting to rise on her face.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Just gotta get you into some PJs, alright?” Dean assured. Not understanding, Jenny’s bottom lip started to jut out and Dean knew the tears would come soon if he didn’t get her to bed ASAP.
Dean hurried over to the dresser but froze when he saw the pictures on top of it. One was of Sam with a huge smile despite the corners of his mouth being pulled by his giggling daughter. Sam always had a smile on his face whenever he was with her, and with the past few weeks Dean had spent with her, he could finally understand why Sam had opted out of so many hunting trips just to be with Jenny. Dean wished he could have the chance to tease Sam one last time for being such a sap.
Another photo on the dresser was of Bobby holding a Christmas stocking with Jenny’s name on it. Sam was standing next to him with Jenny in his arms. He was wearing a Santa hat while Jenny had on an elf hat. It was from last Christmas they had all together. Dean remembered how Sam devotedly took on the role of Santa, determined to give Jenny the Christmas she deserved even though she’d never remember it. It was a hard reminder that Jenny would have absolutely no memory of the father that dedicated his life to her.
Dean swallowed and forced his eyes away from the photo, landing them on one with him, Jenny, and you. Dean had Jenny in his arms and was laughing as you smiled up at her, holding her Bummy up to her giggling face. Dean picked up the picture and stared down at your smile. He was afraid that with all this crashing down on you, he’d never see that bright carefree expression again.
A whine from the changing table prompted Dean to quickly put down the picture and pull some pajamas out of the dresser. He hustled over to Jenny and could see the tears welling up in her eyes.
“Shhh, shhh baby girl. Please don’t cry. I’ll get you to bed soon,” Dean practically pleaded with her, not wanting her cries to wake you up. By some miracle, Jenny only let out a few whimpers with only the occasional fussiness while he forced her to move her arms and legs as he changed her.
Dean picked her up and walked over to the crib, gently placing her inside. He let out a sigh of relief as he saw her curl up with the baby blanket Sam had bought her a year ago and watched her start to drift to sleep.
He turned to walk out the door towards the guest room but then stopped in his tracks. A haunting memory played through his mind and he found himself staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before making the decision to wheel Jenny’s crib into his room.
Just for a few nights…Dean thought to himself in an attempt to justify not using the room Bobby and Jody had worked so hard on. He placed her crib against the wall in the guest room and peered over the bars to see that the rolling had lulled her into a deep sleep. Thank God she slept like her father.
After walking back downstairs to grab his own duffel of clothes and toiletries, he returned back to the room and changed into a pair of sweats and a Led Zeppelin T-shirt. He looked over the crib’s bars while brushing his teeth, unable to tear his adoring eyes away from his precious sleeping niece until he finally had to go back to the bathroom to rinse his mouth.
He walked back into his room and shut off the light. As the darkness enveloped the room, it suddenly dawned on him just how exhausted he was from the day’s events. He practically stumbled towards the bed and collapsed on the comforter, the image of your deadened expression replaying in his mind as he drifted off to sleep.
“Y/N? Hey, Y/N?” Dean reached out for your shoulder and spun you around. He staggered backwards at the sight. Like the night that always haunts him, you were covered in bruises and gashes. Cuts ran down your arms and legs. Blood was seeping from your hairline as if your head had been bashed against the wall. Harsh purple bruises were painted along your face and your shirt was drenched in blood as if your stomach had been sliced open.
“You did this to me…” You mumbled, eyes vacant and staring at the floor. “You did this to me…You did this to me…You did this to me…”
“No, no, Y/N…” Dean grabbed your shoulder and used his other hand to wipe away strands of hair sticking to the blood dripping down your face. “I’m sorry, Y/N…I’m so sorry…”
You looked up at him and in one swift movement you knocked his hands out of the way and grabbed the collar of his shirt.
“YOU DID THIS TO ME! YOU DID THIS TO ME! YOU DID THIS TO ME!”
A loud clatter startled Dean awake. He shot up from his bed and panted as he looked around the room.
Where the fuck…? Dean nearly panicked until his eyes landed on Jenny’s crib and he remembered the events earlier that day. He groaned as he dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his eyelids. Just once he’d like to have good night’s sleep without the image of you from that night flashing through his mind.
Dean stiffened as he heard another clatter. He quietly reached for his pistol from his nightstand and lightly placed his feet on the hard-wood floor. He tiptoed past Jenny’s crib, double checking her sleeping form, until proceeding down the hall.
A clang came from your room and Dean’s heart was in his throat as he approached your door. A soft creek emitted from it as Dean softly pushed it. He held his gun out in front of him and peered inside.
Despite the room being nearly empty, it looked catastrophic with the state of your bedsheets. The duvet was completely kicked off, the sheets were twisted off the side as if you had fallen out, and your scattered pillows looked like they had been thrown across the room.
Some sort of scuffle was the first thought in Dean’s mind as his grip on his gun tightened. He entered the room, ready to shoot down whatever had taken you. He tip-toed across the floor, looking left, right, and up as he searched desperately for you, ignoring his heartbeat pounding in his head.
Suddenly, a commotion came from the bathroom in your room and he heard a trail of harsh curses from you.
“Y/N?!” Dean called, his voice cracking from both relief and worry. He ran to the bathroom and kicked the door through, despite it being opened in the first place. He aimed his gun at the crouched figure, only to lower it when he saw the back of your head over the barrel of his gun.
You were alone, wearing nothing but your pajama shorts and a tank top. You were on your knees, crouching over the tub and surrounded by strewn toiletries scattered across the floor. Dean could see your shoulders relax after you heard the “click” from Dean turning his safety back on.
“Y/N?” Dean called out. You flinched and turned your head just slightly before turning your attention back towards the tub and crouching over it to reach for something.
“Hi, Dean. D-Did I w-w-wake you? I’m sorry, I j-just got…fr-frustrated,” You explained as you picked up the mess of bottles from inside the bathtub. Dean saw the way your hands shook as you placed each bottle back onto the side of the tub.
“Frustrated with what?” Dean asked. He placed his gun onto the bathroom sink and cautiously took a few steps towards you. You didn’t turn towards him and remained seated on your knees.
“I just ca…can’t f-figure out th-this stupid…stupid…shower,” You gasped through your words. You ran your hands through your hair and then placed them on the tub, gripping the porcelain sides to stabilize yourself. “It’s s-s-silly. I sh-shouldn’t be s-so up..upset but…but everything…everything’s so d-d-different. Everything’s new…I d-don’t know anything he-here…”
“Y/N…” Dean said softly. You didn’t even seem to hear him.
“I c-can’t even t-t-turn on a…shower…How…how am I s-supposed to d-d-do anything if I can’t simply…simply do this?!” You stumbled over your words, jumbling them between each hyperventilated breath.
“Y/N,” Dean tried again.
“Everything’s…s-s-so new…what c-c-can I do? Nothing…nothing’s the s-same. I don’t know how to do this! I don’t know anything! I just…I can’t do this, Dean! I can’t do this…” Your fingers tangled themselves into your hair and you began to tug at your fistfuls of strands.
“I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t-”
Dean grabbed your shoulder and you flinched. He turned you around and saw the tears locked in your wide, pleading eyes. Dean felt your muscles tense underneath his hands, causing your arms to become rigid and freezing your hands in your tangled hair. Your teeth were clenched and you became still and quiet, like a statue depicting a terrified young woman.
“Y/N, let go of your hair,” Dean instructed as he dropped to a squatting position in front of you. You just stared up at him with your unfaltering crazed expression, fists still pulling against your roots.
“Y/N, please…” Dean requested. He gently placed his hands on your arms. You flinched once more at the contact. You hadn’t had a panic attack as bad as this since you were children, yet Dean still remembered how to help you. He began lightly rubbed his hands along your arm, taking loud, deep breaths, urging you to join in. Your eyes widened a bit more as you pushed yourself to follow his lead, finally letting out violent and shaky breathes through your nose.
Dean felt your muscles start to relax under his touch. He watched your fists unclench and flatten against your temples. He slowly moved his hands up your neck and to your jaw. He cupped your cheeks and gently moved his thumbs in a circular motion along your skin.
After a few minutes of him patiently rubbing your skin, your jaw eventually slacked and your teeth unclenched. The sudden relaxation of your face caused the frozen tears to finally be released and your body began to shake.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Dean breathed, his heart breaking as he watched all the emotions hit you at once. He brushed your hair out of your face and wiped your tears away with his thumb. He wanted to pull you into him, but he had experienced your panic attacks before and knew the sudden confinement would only make you tense up again.
To his relief, however, you chose to lean into him. You dropped your head into his chest and your hands left your hair to grip his shirt. Dean dropped into a seating position and pulled you into his lap. He wrapped an arm around you and used his other to soothingly run his fingers through your hair.
“Shhh, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m right here…” He said, rocking back and forth and shutting his eyes in pain as he listened to you sob.
“No, it’s n-not o-o-okay, Dean,” You blubbered into his shirt. You pulled back from him and took a few short gasps as you hastily wiped the tears from your face. “I’m so…so sorry, Dean.”
“What? Sweetheart, why are you apologizing?”
“B-b-because I’m so weak. Th-this is just pa-pathetic…I’m so sorry y-you have to d-deal with me…”
“Y/N, stop,” Dean ordered sternly. “I don’t know where the hell you got that idea but you’re wrong. You are strong. The strongest woman I know. Hell- the strongest person I know.”
You let out a sarcastic “Ha” and rolled your eyes as you said, “Dean, l-look at me. I’m…I’m a mess.”
“And you have every right to be!” Dean answered. He cupped your cheek and forced you to look at him.
It was true; you were a mess, Dean wouldn’t deny it. Mascara was running down your tear-streaked cheeks, your eyes were bloodshot, cheeks were red, and your hair was a tangled mane around your face. Yet, despite your disheveled appearance Dean still thought you were his beautiful girl that he never wanted to let go of.
“Y/N, I had four weeks of breaking down. I didn’t speak to anyone, shut myself out, and had a tantrum almost every night. And I don’t even have anxiety like you do!” Dean explained. You dropped your head in shame and Dean quickly placed a finger under your chin and pulled your face back up. “Which makes you ten times stronger than I’ll ever be. You stayed strong during those weeks of hell, despite all those responsibilities and me making you feel so alone. Y/N, I can’t apologize enough for that.”
“No, Y/N, let me finish. Your anxiety does not make you weak. It makes you stronger than any of us. The fact that you fought it for weeks and were able to take care of Jenny all through that, along with Bobby and my ass while we mourned…have you even taken the time to mourn?”
“I…I’ve cried for Sam, yes…” You sniffed.
“Really cried?” Dean pushed; knowing full well you had swallowed most of the grief away in order to focus on Jenny. You gave Dean a weak little shrug and Dean wiped away some more of your tears as he felt his own start to form. “Sweetheart, you are well-due for a breakdown. This whole thing is new and sudden and scary as hell. You can cry. It’s okay. I’m here now and I’m not leaving.”
You stared up at him, your eyes studying his face. He gave you a soft smile and fought his tears as he brushed a hand along your face and said, “Let me take care of you this time.”
You gulped and the shut your eyes as the tears came flooding. You choked out a sob and collapsed back into Dean’s chest, finally breaking down your walls and letting the emotions crash through. Dean held you tightly against him, burying his face in your hair and allowing his own tears to silently fall.
Through your sobs he could hear you mumble Sam’s name, Jenny’s name, Bobby’s name, and sometimes even his name.
A few times you’d choke out “I’m not ready” or “I’m not strong enough” to which Dean would respond by squeezing you tighter and saying, “You are, Wonder Woman. You really are.”
Finally, for what felt like an hour, your sobs began to quiet and you relaxed in Dean’s arms. Dean gently pulled you away to see your red and swollen face holding an exhausted expression. Dean gave you a smile and asked, “Do you still want to shower or just go straight to bed?”
You looked up at him and then nodded towards the bed. Dean nodded back and put an arm under your legs with the other behind your back. He lifted you as he stood up and began walking towards your bed.
“Dean, I can walk there myself,” You protested, despite wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head against his shoulder. Dean ignored you and took his final long strides to your bed and gently placed you on it. He retrieved your pillows, placed them under your head, pulled the strewn covers back over the mattress, and tucked you in, brushing strands of hair from your face as he did so.
Dean looked down into your eyes and suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of awkwardness, unsure of what to do next. Should he go back to his room or should he stay here with you? He knew what he wanted but was scared you wouldn’t want the same.
As if hearing his thoughts, you reached out and grabbed Dean’s wrist. Dean froze and looked at your hand, slowly moving his eyes to yours.
You tried to fight the blush as you uttered the one word Dean wanted to hear, “Stay.”
Dean slid his wrist out from your hand and wrapped his fingers in yours.
Dean had rolled Jenny’s crib into your room and softly traced his fingers along her hair as she began to stir, soothing her back to sleep. He smiled down at her before shutting off your light and turning towards your bed.
You scooted away to give him room and felt the bed dip as he climbed in. You turned to your side and he did the same, making eye contact with you and giving you one of his signature awkward crooked smiled.
You smiled back and stared at him for a few long minutes. He did the same, refusing to look away from your eyes. He hesitantly lifted his hand and softly trailed his fingers against your bare shoulder. You sighed against the touch and mustered up the courage to scoot closer to Dean and nestle your forehead into his chest. You heard Dean suck in a breath and you almost pulled back, afraid you had gone too far, until he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him.
For the next half hour, Dean rubbed circle against your back and listened to you breathe softly against him. You were so still and at peace that Dean was sure you had fallen asleep. He started to feel his own lids start to drift shut until he heard you mumble, “Dean?”
“Yeah?” Dean responded, his eyes remaining shut as he absentmindedly continued the circular motions on your back.
“Do you think Jenny hates me?” You asked, your voice soft from oncoming sleep. Dean opened his eyes and pulled back from you slightly, looking down at you in confusion.
“No, why would you ask that?” Dean asked, completely baffled. You tilted your head up slightly to look up at him then buried your embarrassed face in his shirt.
“She doesn’t say my name,” You answered so quietly and muffled against his shirt that Dean almost didn’t hear you.
“Well, maybe Y/N is too hard for her?” Dean suggested, although he was completely clueless to Jenny’s intentions as well.
“S’not that hard…” You sleepily slurred into his shirt. Dean began rubbing circles on your back again as he felt you fall asleep against him.
“Well, she doesn’t hate you. You’re the best aunt ever. I can tell she loves you like a mother,” Dean replied.
You didn’t respond and Dean took in your even breaths and relaxed muscles as a sign you had fall asleep. Dean allowed his own eyes to shut as your words echoed in his mind.
Jenny’s cries interrupted your sleep. You opened your eyes, shocked by the nightmareless sleep you just had, and looked up at the ceiling to see the sunlight starting to shine into the room. You felt a weight on your chest and looked down to see Dean’s arm lying across you. You turned and found yourself face-to-face with the Winchester, now known as the Kent. Your husband.
His eyes and nose were scrunched as he began to wake, his mind trying to process what was disturbing his slumber. You watched as he rubbed his face in the pillow, trying to escape back into his sleep.
You hadn’t found yourself in this position in months. Not since the almost-apocalypse occurred or, to be more accurate, since the night that occurred before the apocalypse that you and Dean refuse to speak about.
You shuddered as the memory came to mind and the sudden movement under his arm caused Dean to open his eyes. His expression was sleepy and his eyes traveled around the room in confusion. Once he processed where he was, his green orbs met your eyes and he stared at you in concern.
“You okay?” He groggily asked, his hand brushing against your back.
You nodded in response. Through a yawn, you greeted, “Good morning, I guess.”
Dean rolled over and looked at his watch he had left on his wrist. The groan that escaped his lips confirmed your beliefs that it was an ungodly hour in the morning.
You sighed and began to get up in order to retrieve Jenny from her crib, only to be pushed back down by Dean.
“I got her, you just go back to sleep,” He said. You wanted to push, but you could already feel yourself drifting away so you simply gave him a nod in response.
He let out another groan as he lifted his upper body from the bed. He tossed his bowlegs over the side and slouched over for a moment as he rubbed his face. You giggled a bit at his appearance.
“Hedgehog head…” You murmured as drifted back into your slumber.
Dean looked back at you and smiled. You hadn’t called him that in a long time. It seemed that for once in the past month, Dean had finally done something right and brought you back to him.
He chewed his cheek as he took in your appearance. Your lips were partly open and calm, even breaths escaped them. Your arm was outstretched to where Dean once laid, tempting him to roll back into the bed and pull you close. Your eyes still had little red rings around them and your hair was a matted mess, but you still looked beautiful in Dean’s eyes.
Dean pushed himself off the bed and took heavy steps towards Jenny as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Jenny was standing up and supporting herself against the top of the crib’s wooden cage. Her face was red and lined with tears as snot dripped from her nose.
“Hey, baby girl, why so sad?” He muttered as he picked her up from her crib.
She buried her face into his neck and sniffled, “Unca Bean.”
Dean’s heart swelled at how much Jenny latched onto him. All he wanted to do was protect her and let her know how loved she was. He never realized he could love someone so much and so unconditionally. Although everything around him was new and frightening, he never wanted to leave. In all honesty, he was excited to step into this brand new scary life with his family.
He glanced over at you in your bed then back at Jenny and whispered, “Why don’t you and I get some breakfast? I’ve got something I need to teach you.”
The one thing you didn’t mind being ordered to do was ride into the village. Apart from galloping off into the forest, going into the small village was a welcome break from the madness that had descended into your family home. It meant you could see familiar faces again.
“You don’t look well miss, not at all” you smiled walking through the market with Peter and his Aunt. The older woman was worried for you; she could see how thin you were getting. Her maternal instincts wanted nothing more than to take you away from those wrenched women.
“Why do you stay there? You can come live with us! Can’t she Aunt May, it wont be a bother.” You bumped Peter with your hip softy. You didn’t deserve such kindness
Now, only 2 months later, we hit 4 million
It’s so mind blowing!
Of course, I have a little
something-something to celebrate this milestone; nothing much really, just some
gifs of Jack dancing :3 This took longer than I expected it to XD (Also I really hope
these gifs are working!)