Dean was pissed.
The car drove silently along the dark, empty road. Not even the sounds of Zeppelin played in the background. His knuckles were white. You knew you were in for it when you got home. You knew that you two were going to yell at each other until you were blue in the face and you were more than likely spending the night in your old bedroom. You had been spending a lot of time there recently. You were starting to wonder if maybe you should move your stuff back in there.
You and Dean had been fighting more and more these past few months. It was about anything and everything. You didn’t pick up any beer. You forgot to pack an extra shirt and now I’m stuck giving you mine. It was everything. He had just started flirting with bartenders when you went out after hunts. It was only a matter of time until he forgot all about you.
You were hurting. Dean was the love of your life. He was there for you when you needed him the most. He made your heart race and your knees weak. He brought out the best in you and sometimes the worst. He challenged you in the best ways. Now? Now it felt like you were the last thing on his mind unless he was pissed at you. You no longer felt like you were the girl he loved. You felt like it didn’t matter if you were there or not. You fought so much that you’d rather that than face life without him.
Dean pulled into the garage and cut the engine. You were out of the car faster than you ever had been. You forgot about your bags and headed straight in, Dean hot on your tail. You weren’t ready for this fight. You weren’t ready for any of them. But this time, you were so close to your breaking point. You couldn’t handle it today. You didn’t want to have this fight. You wanted to feel your boyfriend’s arms around you, and just for once. Just once, have him tell you that everything was going to be okay.
That was wishful thinking.
“What was that back there?” he started, shrugging his jacket of his shoulders.
“I made a mistake,” you admitted.
“A mistake? You nearly got yourself killed Y/N!” he raised his voice.
“Yeah I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” you practically whispered.
“That’s what you said last time,” he scoffed.
“Dean, I really don’t want to fight,” you said softly. “We fight all the time. Can’t we argue about this tomorrow and just go to bed?”
“Fine. Don’t wait up,” he practically growled, grabbing his jacket. He was headed to the bar.
“What?” He rolled his eyes.
“What happened to us? We never used to be like this,” you breathed out.
“You knew how hard this was going to be before we started-”
“Of course I did, Dean! We’re hunters. We don’t know if we’re going to have tomorrow or not but that’s not what I meant. We never used to fight like this. Now it’s like every conversation we have, it turns into an argument,” you started. “Is this not enough for you anymore? Am I not enough for you?”
“Can we talk about this later?”
“No! No we can’t! I’ve been pushing this down for months Dean! MONTHS! Every fight! Every time you absentmindedly flirt with the bartender right in front of my face. You think I don’t feel it every time I sleep by myself? You think that this what I want hanging over my head every day? Constantly wondering if today is the day you kick me out or worse, tells me that you don’t love me anymore.”
“You know, a part of me wished that I would have gotten seriously hurt on that hunt today. It’s a sad thought that I figured that if I got hurt that maybe my boyfriend would care. Maybe he would stop fighting with me to realize that I was hurting more than just physically. But you don’t care and I can’t make you care. Just like I can’t make you fall in love with me again,” you sniffled, wiping away the tear that slipped down your cheek. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t enough for you Dean. I can’t keep putting myself through this. I love you with all my heart, Dean and more. When we were happy together, you gave me some of the greatest memories. But I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore.”
“Don’t. Don’t walk away,” he pleaded.
“Give me one good reason not to.”