Work Text:
Dean stared at the foot of the bed, taking in the black fabric of his old Metallica t-shirt you always wore to sleep. It was crumpled by the pillow, your pillow. Four weeks. Thirty days since he had held you in his arms and kissed your lips. He could still smell the fragrance of your shampoo on his pillow. Could still taste the blueberry Chapstick you always wore. But you were never coming back. He knew that, he just had to accept it.
I think you can do much better than me
After all the lies that I made you believe
Guilt kicks in and I start to see
The edge of the bed where your nightgown used to be
I told myself I won’t miss you
But I remembered
What it feels like beside you
I really miss your hair in my face
And the way your innocence tastes
And I think you should know this
You deserve much better than me
He knew he was no good for you from the start but that didn’t stop him from falling head over heels in love with you. You were the missing puzzle piece in his twisted world that he didn’t realize he was missing. You were the glue that held all the broken parts of his soul together. But now his soul was broken and shattered. And all because he thought you were better off without him.
While looking through your old box of notes
I found those pictures I took that you were looking for
If there’s one memory I don’t want to lose
That time at the mall - you and me in the dressing room
I told myself I won’t miss you
But I remembered
What it feels like beside you
The mark had taken over and caused him to lash out at those around him. He was afraid that he would hurt you. Hurt you, and Sam, and Cas, so he started pushing you away. Once affectionate and loving, he became cold and callus, wanting you to hate him so he could keep you safe. But it was all for nothing.
I really miss your hair in my face
And the way your innocence tastes
And I think you should know this
You deserve much better than me
The call came in a little after midnight, some hospital a couple hours away, calling to talk to a ‘Scott Summers’, regarding ‘Emma Frost’. Dean felt his stomach drop. Those were the names you’d both created for emergency situations. You had told him that ‘nobody would suspect those as fraudulent names because it was an almost unknown Marvel pairing’. He had chuckled but agreed to your idea.
Rushing to the hospital, he was told you had been t-boned by a drunk driver who ran through a red light. Your side of the car had been smashed so forcefully, it had almost bent in half. You were in surgery and your status was critical. Dean hoped and prayed like hell that you would pull through. Three hours later, he finally received news and it wasn’t good.
The bed I’m lying in is getting colder
Wish I never would’ve said it’s over
And I can’t pretend
I won’t think about you when I’m older
‘Cause we never really had our closure
This can’t be the end
I really miss your hair in my face
And the way your innocence tastes
And I think you should know this
You deserve much better than me
Now, because of his will to push you away, to keep you safe, you were dead. He would never again hear your laughter or see your smiles. He would never again feel your touch or smell your sweet scent. Now, all he could see when he closed his eyes was the anger and tears on your face as you stormed out of the bunker. Your death had only confirmed what he already knew. He was poison to those he loved.