Where is my mind? - Imagine request
Requested by @jeffry4ever: Can you do a fanfic of DeanxReader where Dean has to personalities in him and the reader tries to help him with it?? Has a lot of angst and fluff.
Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Dean Smith x reader, Demon!Dean (mentioned), Michael!Dean (mentioned), Brother!Sam, Son!Sam, Castiel, Son!Castiel, John and Mary Winchester (mentioned), Bobby (mentioned), Ellen (mentioned), Jo (mentioned), Gabriel (mentioned), Zachariah (mentioned), Lucifer (mentioned), Rowena (mentioned), Crowley (mentioned)
Word count:2,404 (+527 from the alternative ending)
Warnings: Dissociative Identity Disorder, angst, blood, violence, minor fluff (maybe even un-existing, depends on your definition of fluff). Un-edited.
A/N: This is darker and angstier than I expected, and I’m really concerned about this. However, I think I did a pretty good job and, just in case it’s too angsty, I added an alternative ending. Enjoy!
**DISCLAIMER: I do not know anything about this disorder, I do not know how people with this disorder feel and I do not intend to offend, or harm anyone. This is for mere fictional purposes and has nothing to do with reality.
I open my eyes and find myself back to my room, at the bunker. Look to my side and there’s (Y/N), breathing as peacefully as always. How did I get here? We were hunting a ghoul in Alabama and then… What happened then? I can’t remember. I tend to forget, but lately it’s been worse.
The floor is cold, and I only notice because I step on it with my bare feet, unable to find my slippers. Stress is killing me; I don’t even remember where I leave my stuff anymore.
“Babe, come back to bed.” She calls me, shifting slightly under the blankets.
“Nah, I slept too much already.” I say, looking at her. Her hair is messy.
“You stayed up all night…” She mumbled, tilting her head.
I analyse myself mentally. I’m tired, really tired and my whole body hurts. Yes, I definitely stood up all night. Why don’t I remember? Maybe the lack of sleep is causing all of this… Yeah, it must be it.
I hesitate but eventually join her back in bed. She cuddles by my side like she always does. Her hands stroke my bare chest as she hums an old song.
Suddenly, I find myself at the war room with Sam’s laptop in front of me. There’s some ‘cartoon porn’ playing but I’m not really feeling it. Everything seems to be so far away, kind of like one of those dreams where everything seems to be real. There’s some kind of fog in my brain, something that keeps me from hearing the noises coming from upstairs. I should definitely get some sleep.
“I think I need to see a doctor.” I dare to say out loud. It’s night already and she’s taking off her clothes and replacing them with a pair of shorts and a tank top.
“Are you serious?” She asks dumbfounded.
“Of course I am.” I simply reply, taking off my shirt.
“You must be feeling really bad then…” I nod as a response and get in bed. She joins me soon after, and then she falls asleep while I stay awake for a few more hours until I finally drift off to a spiral. It’s the weirdest dream I’ve had in months, but I don’t mind because I really need to get some rest.
I wake up and look around. Not only am I fully dressed, but also somewhere else. There are dead bodies all around and, for some reason, I know that I’m responsible for their deaths. I look down, there’s a knife in my hand and my clothes are covered in thick blood. How did I get here?
A sob call my attention. She’s there, in the corner and she’s bleeding. “Babe?” I call her and a louder sob leaves her lips.
“Why did you do it, Dean?” She asked as tears spill from her blood stained face.
“I… I was trying to protect you.” Was I? Strange flashbacks come to my mind. Black eyes invade my senses… Demons. “They were demons, (Y/N).”
“They were your friends, Dean!” She roared, “Your friends and you killed them!”
Suddenly, I find myself skipping from place to place, time to time, like it was one of those cheap-film montages. It’s the same routine, all day, every day. Things repeat themselves. I live in a perpetual state of déjà vu.
Then, the montage stops. I’m in a room. It’s cold and it smell like medicine. The walls and the floor are white and I find myself sitting at a silver table; in front of me, (Y/N) and another man – an old man, stare at me.
“Dean, please just answer the question.” She begs.
“What question?” I ask. The man and she share a glance before focusing back on me.
“Do you have any questions about your condition?” The man repeats. I notice a tag on his clothes; it reads “Doctor Krazovski.”
“What condition?” I ask once more. (Y/N) sighs just like she does when she’s tired and forces herself to talk.
“DID?” I frown, “What DID I do?” My joke causes no effect on them. Instead, the doctor asks her to repeat the explanation for him as he gets up to find something at a strange looking cabinet at the end of the room.
“DID means Dissociative Identity Disorder…” She mumbled, holding my hands in hers.
“You think I have multiple personalities?” I ask dumfounded.
“Dean Smith… Dean Winchester… Something you refer to as Deanmon and, of course, Michael… The Archangel.” She says.
“Is this some kind of sick joke?” I huff, “Gabriel, you can stop now!” I look up at the ceiling, like he would appear from there but nothing happens.
“Dean, why don’t you tell us everything about who you are?” The doctor asks without looking at us.
“My name is Dean Winchester, I have a little brother named Sam. Our parents are John and Mary Winchester and they already died; first my mom during a fire when I was four, then my dad when I was on my twenties. My brother and I grew up on the road.” I explain easily.
“You and your brother hunt monsters, am I right?” I give (Y/N) a glance; we were supposed to keep the secret. Maybe that why they think I’m insane. However, she nods, encouraging me to keep talking.
“Yeah.” I say, “It’s the family business.”
“So about Deanmon and Michael…” I interrupt the doctor.
“I’m the vessel of Michael. He needed me to defeat Lucifer; whose vessel was my brother Sam.” I say, “And Deanmon… It’s what happened to me when Metatron tried to kill me while having the Mark of Cain.”
“You turned into a demon.” The doctor spoke.
“More like a Knight of Hell… But yes.” The doctor sits back at the table. He places a pile of papers on it.
“Mind telling him the truth?” He asks (Y/N), and she nods before proceeding to speak.
“Your name is Dean Smith. Your parents are Ellen and Bobby, your little sister’s name is Jo. You grew up with sci-fi and horror books and movies. You’re not a hunter; you work as the director of sales and marketing at the Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc.” She said, a few tears spilling from her eyes.
“I’m not… Look, this must be a joke by Zachariah or Gabriel… I don’t know but I’m not Dean Smith and I definitely don’t have multiple personalities.” I roar, feeling panic growing inside of me like poison ivy.
“You have each and every symptom, Dean.” The doctor speaks calmly, not reacting to my sudden rush.
“Depression, mood swings, sleep disorders like insomnia and night terrors… Anxiety, panic attacks, compulsions and rituals… You became an alcoholic and started having this auditory and visual hallucinations about you hunting monsters…” She cried, “Eating disorders and of course that strange fear of the darkness… And you’re violent, and you lose track of time and space…”
“At first we thought you suffered from schizophrenia… It’s a normal mistakes considering they’re both similar but your wife noticed how you changed your name, and how you behaved differently depending on the identity you adopted at the moment.” The doctor explained. How could he remain so calm?
“At first I thought you were joking but then you killed your friends during Thanksgiving dinner and I…” She bursted into tears, “I was so scared!”
“They were demons, (Y/N).” I insist.
“Sir, there’s no need to try and justify your acts.” The doctor interrupted, “The court found you guilty, but thanks to an amazing team of psychiatrists, we found that you are mentally ill. Therefore, you didn’t go to jail.”
“I didn’t go to jail but I did get locked up in a mad-house? I don’t know about you, man, but for me it’s all the same.” I hiss, “There is an evil force out in the world and I have to fight it!”
“Dean, please let them help you.” She begged. Her puffy eyes meeting mine. “If you get better, you will be able to come back home to me and the kids… Don’t you want to be a family again?”
“I don’t have any kids….” I shake my head and more tears leave her eyes.
“Sam and Cas… Don’t you remember them?” I shake my head again. The only faces I see when I hear those names are my brother Sam and Castiel, the angel. “Well, they do remember you and they miss you.”
“Sir, we’ve been trying to diagnose you for seven years and, finally, we’ve accomplished it.” The doctor spoke, “If you could just… Just do the treatment. I promise things will soon make sense.”
“What about the demons? The monsters killing innocents? The… There is so much bad out there, how do you expect me to ignore that?” I ask, feeling how warm tears escape my eyes.
“Dean, there are no vampires kidnapping teenagers… No demons hiding in the shadows, no rogue angels forcing people to be their vessels… There are no wendigoes, ghouls, spectres, werewolves or shapeshifters. Your aunt Rowena isn’t a witch, and your boss isn’t the King of Hell…” She says cruelly.
Out of a sudden, I find myself sitting at a garden chair. The grass is short and there are a lot of people dressed in white. I look down to realize I have that same kind of clothing. The white building rises as the sun reflects on the small windows. How long have I been here?
“Dean!” I hear someone call me. It’s her, and she’s being followed by two young guys.
“Hey, (Y/N)…” I hug her and then furrow at the sight of the two guys.
“Won’t you say hi to your own kids?” One of them says. Cas… Castiel, yeah, I remember. We named him like that after hearing his name in Church.
“Hi, kids…” I smile, when did they become so old? “You’re too tall.”
“And you’re old.” The other one jokes. Sam, his name is Sam.
How much time had it been? Flashback come back to me and all I see is a pair of small humans doing all kinds of shenanigans as (Y/N) made breakfast. I remember taking them to the park, walking the dog… Wait, we had a dog! Yes, and then they… They became older.
I look at her, hoping to find her young, refreshing face but instead find a woman with wrinkles by the sides of her eyes and a few white hairs growing on her head. She remains just as beautiful, but the thought of me losing the chance of growing old with her breaks my heart.
“Dad? Are you all right?” Cas asks, touching my forehead with his fingers. He’s a doctor, not an angel; and he is trying to find a fever, not curing me with his grace. I know that now.
“Yes, I’m just… I missed you.” I confess, holding her hands with mine.
“We missed you too.” Sam smiles, “But we got good news!”
“That’s right!” She cheers, “Sammy finished college and he managed to convince the doctor to let you come with us to celebrate.”
“Am I going out?” I ask as my eyes widen.
“Just for the weekend… But the doctor says you haven’t turned into anyone else in a while so… If you keep on working, you will be able to come back home in no time.” She says. I can see in her eyes that it hurts her just as much to have me locked here.
“We’ll help you, dad.” Castiel promises.
“Yeah, we’ll do anything you need.” Sam adds. Of course they will do anything, in fact they are already doing it, yes I remember. My health insurances covered the expenses of the hospital while kids finished school and now they are working men that help their mother and… (Y/N) had a part-time job, I remember now.
“You’re already doing enough, boys.”
“Dean?” She asks, joining me in bed. The familiar feeling makes my heart flutter and ache at the same time. I can’t put to words how much I have missed this.
“What is it, sweetheart?” I wrap an arm around her waist. It’s not as slim as I remember, but then again, five minutes ago I realized I’m no longer the young lad I used to be.
“You didn’t recognize the boys this morning, did you?” She asks.
“Have you taken your meds?”
“The doctor says you haven’t changed lately.” She speaks carefully, afraid to trigger me.
There are many kinds of pains, and I’ve felt several of them, but not a single one compares to the love of your life being afraid you.
“It lasted a second, (Y/N).” I say, “There’s nothing to worry about.”
“I just… I want you to come back home.” I pull her closer, leaving a soft kiss on her temple.
“Soon… I promise.” I sigh, “Will you wait for me?”
“I’ve waited for you over ten years; I think I can wait a bit longer.” She giggles, looking up at me.
“I don’t deserve a woman as amazing as you.” I whisper, “I’m so thankful for having you, and the kids…” She moves closer, kissing me on the lips for the first time in many years.
“I love you.” She says. Her breath is ghosting over my lips, causing all kinds of reactions in my body, but specially a feeling of safety. I’m home.
“Your wife and kids are…”
“Good. Tell me, where are you?”
“Briarcliff’s Mental Institution.”
“Dissociative Identity Disorder.”
“You know this is a joke, right?”
My mind wanders again. The doctor isn’t the doctor anymore. His white coat falls to the ground, showing me strange tattoos on his arms, and they shine. It’s a djiin, and I must kill it.
I find myself holding the doctor’s pen, burying it deeply at the djiins eyes, trying to stop him for a while until I find the real weapon. I need to kill him; he will hurt my brother if I don’t.
The alarm goes off. They think the djiin is the doctor, but he isn’t he… He is dead. A pen killed him, but how? Djiins can’t be killed that easily.
I’m never going out of here.
*Alternative Ending under the cut*
