I looked over at the empty bed, rubbing my hands together as I contemplated her last words.
“Dean, you don’t love me. You love the idea of me, and that’s why I have to go.”
Those words cut me like a knife, mostly because she couldn’t have been more wrong. Y/N always had a way of thinking she knew what was best. For everyone.
She’d make an executive decision when she thought she needed to. She always thought she was doing the right thing. Nine times out of ten, she was right. This time, she was wrong.
I guess we have that in common. Sam has told me on more than one occasion the same damn things I’m thinking about Y/N.
We are so much alike it scares me.
Maybe that’s why she thought I didn’t love her. Maybe she saw all of her flaws in me and that scared her. Maybe she didn’t love me, but the idea of me.
That idea scared the hell out of me because I needed her. Especially after everything we had been through together.
I picked up my phone and dialed her number. Straight to voicemail.
“Listen, Y/N. I know you think you’re right. You usually are,” I sighed, running my hand over my face before continuing. “But this time, you’re wrong. I love you. I need you. Now more than ever. I’m going to find you. I’m not letting you run away this time.”
I hung up the phone, grabbed my bag and headed for the Impala. I wasn’t letting her get away this time.
You looked at the phone as it mocked you. One voicemail. You knew exactly whose voice would sound through the phone the minute you listened to the voicemail, but it didn’t stop you for hitting play.
“Listen, Y/N. I know you think you’re right. You usually are,” he sighed, and paused before continuing. “But this time, you’re wrong. I love you. I need you. Now more than ever. I’m going to find you. I’m not letting you run away this time.”
You threw the phone across the car.
“Dammit!” you screamed, gripping the wheel tight, tears streaming down your face. Dean couldn’t really love you. You weren’t someone who deserved anyone’s love. Especially Dean’s.
He’d left that message two days ago.
You sat in the empty parking lot of a disgusting motel, your eyes squeezed shut as you thought.
A knock on your window made you nearly jump out of the seat.
You turned and there were the green eyes you were running from. The green eyes you were trying desperately to save. After the two of you had come back from Purgatory, you’d felt so lost.
Running had seemed like the right choice. You needed Dean too much after everything in Purgatory. You couldn’t depend on any one person as much as you did Dean. That usually only ended one way, and that was losing that person.
But you stared into Dean’s eyes, and for a brief second forgot why you had run in the first place.
“Son of a bitch,” you mumbled, running your fingers through your short Y/H/C hair as Dean opened your door. You weren’t sure what was going to come of this confrontation, but you couldn’t keep running.
Dean would always find you. Especially if he loved you like he said.
“What the hell, Y/N?” Dean growled.
He grabbed your arm and pulled you roughly against him, his lips crashing to yours, and you let him. You couldn’t promise you wouldn’t run again when you came to your senses, but for now, you let Dean’s arms comfort you.
For now, you let yourself stupidly believe that maybe, just maybe, you were safe.
Message submitted from @chaos-and-the-calm67 when she sent the gif: I saw this and I’d thought I’d send it in *hides face*