"I’m sorry, Dean… I didn’t know who else to call…" There was no stopping the hot tears that spilled down my cheeks. I wasn’t even sure what I was crying about any more. The copious amounts of alcohol I had been encouraged to consume clouded my mind and blurred my vision. I couldn’t remember what had happened that left me sitting in a parking lot by myself, but I was sure of one thing. He was here to save me. Dean was crossing the space between us with urgency, his eyes wide and his brow creased in concern.
"Y/N! Are you okay? Did anyone hurt you?! I swear to god if anyone laid a hand on you…" Dean hurriedly removed his jacket and folded it around my shaking body. The brightness from the Impala’s headlights was glaring off my flashy, short dress and the heels I held in one hand. I felt ashamed and childlike, desperately wiping the moisture from my face. He didn’t seem to notice my embarrassment. He was too preoccupied with searching my body for any signs that I had been injured. Overwhelming relief washed over me. He was here, it was all over.
"I’m okay, now that you’re here." I choked back another sob and fell forward into Dean’s arms. His warmth felt like home to me. For the first time that night I felt safe and content. Dean pulled me tighter to his chest and spread a wide hand over the back of my hair. I could feel the anxiety in the way he squeezed me close. His breath came as a shaky sigh when he spoke again, this time the words more stern.
"You never, ever hesitate to call me when you’re scared. I would never forgive myself if…" He paused and I could feel a small shudder rock his body before he continued. "Come on, let’s get you home"
p.s. This whole situation is probably giving him flashbacks to the time his dad saved him from that bar in New York.