Broken Heels (I / II)
Request: “There’s a protective Dean and Sam some kind of thing. They’re friends with fem!reader, a shy and graceful girl. A long time ago the brothers took her in and a deep friendship was born. She only helps with research because she suffers from a heart failure, which leads to her being often dizzy nauseated and breathless. The brother care for her and always keep an eye out on her. Dean is secretly in love with her and vice versa. But neither of them admits it. One night Dean brings home some of his flings and the girl is really cruel to the reader…. Reader spirals into a rabbit hole, taking the things the bitch said to her to heart…. And shit hits the fan?! Some angst, drama and fluff, protective Winchesters.” - by anon
Warnings: side effects due to heart failure, language, bullying, mentions of blood, negative self-talk
A/N: Italics refers to flashbacks. I broke this request into two parts because it ended up being much longer than expected. I also re-used one of my previous drabbles as the first flashback in this fic. No beta, all mistakes are mine, please message me if you see any! Watercolor heart from the header image credit.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”
You plaster yourself even further into the corner, the cement walls of the crevice you’re in cold against your sweaty skin. Your limbs are still shaking, trembling, in fact, an uncontrollable reaction to the fear still coursing through your veins.
You assess yourself without moving, but your brain can’t track anything.
His boot scrapes the ground as he repositions himself in a sitting position. The harsh sound almost makes you scream, and you shut your eyes tight.
“Sorry,” he says quietly. You can see him out of your peripherals, his jean clad legs drawn up, bare arms resting on his knees, hands clasped together. There’s a dark red splash of blood on his leg and grime coating his forearms. He runs his hands through his short hair and lets out a deep sigh, but doesn’t say anything else.
You don’t know how much time passes as he sits there with you. Both of your feet fall asleep, the pins and needles biting up your ankles, reminding you that you’re still alive. You settle onto your bottom, letting the blood flow resume its normal route. By the time he speaks again, the rigidity has left most of your muscles.
“I remember the first time I saw a werewolf attack,” he gently starts. “I was ten. Followed my dad one night. Really wish I hadn’t. I didn’t even see the action, just the blood and bodies. Scared the hell out of me.”
You feel the tears run down your cheeks as you start crying, the full reality of what just happened finally hitting you.
“It’s okay if you’re scared. But I promise that I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’m not going anywhere.”
A sob catches in your throat, and your shoulders shake alongside it.
“Y/N,” you manage to choke out.
“Y/N, it’s good to meet you. I’m Dean.” His hand extends into the hole you’re in, palm up. “Let’s get you out of here.”
