《Death's Daughter | Supernatural, D.W.》It's Complicated
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I find myself opening my eyes, slightly confused on my whereabouts and what's going on. Then I remember that I'm in Dean's bed, and apparently I fell asleep for the first time ever.
The bed is empty, so I take my chance and hurry to my room. I straighten myself out a little, fixing my hair and cleaning my face off, then changing my clothes. I regain my bearings and make my way down to the main room. I Dean and Cas talking in low voices and wait to enter; I eavesdrop from around the corner.
"You're close with her. You should talk to her about it."
"Close with her? What does that even mean, Cas? We're friends. If someone needs to talk to her about this, it should be you. You know what's going on, I don't. This is some hoo-doo magic crap that I don't know anything about."
"I just explained it to you, Dean. Mallory will take better to you. I can tell that you're special to her, even if it isn't reciprocated. Please."
"Fine," Dean sounds exasperated. "I'll go see if she's awake."
Hurriedly, I run back to my room, being as quiet as I can. My heart is thumping in my ears. What's going on? Why does Dean have to talk to me? And what's going on between us?
I barely have a few moments to think before I hear Dean coming down the hall. I sit on my bed to look normal and I try to kill my thoughts. However, my efforts are lacking. I feel sick for many reasons.
As soon as he appears in my doorway, I realize that I should've just faked sleeping. "Hey, you're awake."
"I am," I nod. "Sleeping was nice."
"It was kind of weird to see you sleep," he chuckles, grinning softly, "but I'm glad you got to rest."
"Yeah," I reply with a clipped tone. "Did you need something?"
"Yeah, actually, I needed to talk to you about something." Dean shuffles awkwardly. I can tell he's nervous. "Can we go sit? I can get you a beer or whatever you want."
"Okay. No beer though, I just woke up."
I stand and gesture for Dean to lead the way. He gives me a strange look in passing, but turns and walks in front of me.
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I sit down at the wood table and take a deep breath. I'm nervous. Castiel is nowhere to be seen; it's just Dean and I, alone.
"So Cas wanted me to break some news to you," Dean says carefully. He leans against the table next to where I'm sitting, and it feels like he's almost too close to me. "I'm sorry it has to be me."
"Me too, I would've preferred Cas to tell me," I reply honestly. Dean tenses up.
"Well..." he trails off. "I'll cut straight to the chase. Cas has your soul locked in a safe place, up in Heaven. He can get it whenever he needs to. But he says that might not be enough to turn you completely human."
I feel my heart drop. "Why not?"
"I don't know," Dean disclaims. "He said that you've been a reaper so long that your human side might be too... 'dormant.'"
"So what, I just betrayed my family and left my only home to help you guys, and no one had the idea to maybe make sure that this would work in the first place?" I ask. I feel angry and sad.
"Mallory, if we knew we would've said something," Dean says.
"I'm sure you would've," I laugh, "because it's just so convenient for you to let your only help go, because you can't hold up your side of the deal."
Dean stands, and explodes. "Do you think it's like that?!" He yells. "None of us, and I mean NONE, would have asked for your help if we knew we couldn't make up for it. What would it matter anyway if you were so miserable there in the first place?"
"Maybe I was miserable, Dean, but I was protected and safe!" I argue. "Now I have so many people out to get me, I couldn't be outside this fucking bunker for ten minutes by myself! I sold off my safety and freedom to help you and your brother. You had better figure this out."
"Don't give me that," Dean barks. "You had a fair choice."
"A fair choice?" I ask. "You held me here against my will until I said yes. That wasn't fair to me."
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"If you wanted to leave so badly, and all your friends cared about you so much, you would've been gone before we even had the chance to ask you for help. You know they don't care about you. You're just a step in their hierarchy."
Dean puts me at a loss for words. Before I can even think, I muster up one last sentence.
"If this is how you treat your friends, Dean, then I don't even want to be friends with you."
I can tell my words make it through his thick skull. He frowns slightly and doesn't say anything. I make my way past him and go to my room, making sure to shut and lock my door upon entry.
I find myself unable to sit and process, so I pace around my room. My eyes water relentlessly and my breathing becomes labored. Why is this so hard? I've lived this way for years, why is it so hard to accept that this is my life?
As I ponder, it dawns on me that I'm experiencing emotions to a fair capacity lately, and that maybe my humanity is being brought out by the humans I'm spending my time with. Maybe this is the only way to find my humanity.
I walk around my room for what feels like forever. I lose track of time. My eyes burn and my chest hurts. I try to lie down, sleep again, but it eludes me. I stay up, staring at the ceiling, wondering exactly what my next move is from this point.
"Mallory," Dean calls from outside my door. His voice sounds hushed. I look at the clock on the wall; it's 3:45 a.m. "I know you're awake. Probably."
"What do you want?" I ask, not moving from my spot.
The door opens, surprising me, and Dean wanders into the almost total darkness of my room. He holds up a key and gives me a cheeky grin. "Can we talk?"
"I guess I don't have much of a choice, do I?"
"I'm sorry," he sighs. "I know this wasn't your first choice. I get it. I know we were tough on you and I get it that you feel short changed. And I understand that I might have disappointed you."
"That's a lot of talk," I reply dryly. "You seem to know a lot."
Dean takes the other half of my bed, making himself comfortable. "You can't be closed off like this if you want an apology from me."
"What do you want me to say, Dean? I'm not just upset with you. I'm upset with Cas, too. He should've told me this himself because I definitely didn't take it better from you." I take a second to breathe. "And then to hear you say that I'm not special to you when you and I have spent all this time together, and I've trusted you enough to make myself vulnerable to you...it's a lot of confusion and pain, Dean."
"I know. I just wasn't sure where you stood with all of that," he says. "It's complicated."
"I don't know either," I admit. "I just know that I trust you. And you make me feel happier than anyone has in a long time, and I feel safe with you. I feel like I matter with you."
Dean's face changes in the dim light. He seems to realize my views. "You do matter to me."
I give him a tight smile. "Thank you."
"Good?" He asks.
I nod. "Good."
Dean gets up to leave, but I still feel dissatisfied with one thing.
"Hey." I grab his attention as I stand up and approach him.
He turns around, and as if he's expecting it, opens his arms and holds me. I throw my arms around his midsection like a child, and breathe in the smell of Old Spice and whiskey. The smell of Dean Winchester.
I mentally declare that this is my favorite place — in Dean's embrace. The warmth, safety and the feelings all seem to harmonize within me, and put me at peace.
"Thanks," I murmur into his chest.
He pulls away from me and stares me down. His eyes could probably light up the whole room without help. Dean smirks. "My pleasure."
Then he leaves, as I practically melt into the floor. This is the moment I realize that Dean Winchester has me in the palm of his hand.
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