Broken Apart (Dean Winchester x Reader)

A New Game

Dean had your arm gripped tight as he opened the door, and you stumbled, your eyes blinded by the sunlight. It had been six months since you had seen the sun, and while it felt amazing upon your skin, it hurt your eyes.

"Come on." Dean grumbled, pulling harder on your arm. Using your free arm to shade your eyes from the sun, you were able to barely make out a gravel parking lot, surrounded by tall dense trees, making it a very secluded place.

Dean drug you over to the side of the lot, and it was then you noticed the Impala. Or what was left of her. The majestic black shiny car was now dull, mud and dirt covering the glossy paint. Minor scratches ran throughout the body, causing you to wince in pain. As you came closer, you saw the dash covered in trash and filth, greasy handprints on the steering wheel and handles.

"Dean, what happened to the Impala?" You cried, your heart breaking at the sight before you.

Dean let go of your arm, shrugging his shoulder as he opened the back seat. "It's just a car." He muttered before shoving you inside. It was then you totally understood that this wasn't your Dean, he wasn't even the Dean with the Mark. This Dean was new, detached, powerful, and utterly scary.

Crowley was standing at the side of the car, watching the interaction between the two of you with interest.

"You getting in?" Dean asked, tilting his head to the car.

"No thank you. I will meet you there." Crowley muttered before vanishing in front of your eyes. Dean didn't seem to mind, he just climbed behind the steering wheel, turning the key in the ignition.
You stayed silent, at first just enjoying the fact that you were no longer in the club of hell. The sun felt amazing on your skin, and being able to see trees, and flowers was something you would never take for granted again.

"Where are we going?" You finally asked, yelling to be heard over the rock that was blaring through the speakers.

"She speaks." He teased. "I have a motel room not too far from here." He explained.

"Where's Sam?" You inquired, curious about your best friend.

You were watching Dean through the rear view mirror, and as soon as you said Sam's name, Dean's eyes flashed black, and a snarl curled on his lips.

"Don't talk bout Sam. I told him to let me go. Next time I see him, his blood will be covering these hands." Dean threatened, turning down the radio, and you shrunk back in your seat, his words scaring you.

Not wanting to upset Dean anymore, you stayed quiet, your gaze on the scenery that passed, your mind on what type of torture was in store for you.

"Do you want to know what I have planned for you?" Dean tempted you, reading your mind, his eyes green again, studying you through the mirror.

You stayed silent, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Dean didn't seem to care, he continued on. "I was thinking of tying you up on the bed at first, because knowing you, you will try to escape. But I haven't decided, do I leave you dressed, or shall you stay naked for my enjoyment?"

Your body betrayed you then, twitching in dismay at the thought of being tied up and at the mercy of a Demon, but you kept silent.

"Then I might tease you, touch you in all the spots you like, because sweetheart, I might be a Demon, but I still know all your weaknesses. For example how you melt when my lips press against the tender skin right under your ear, or when I nibble on your collar bone."

Dean took his gaze away long enough to check the road, before returning it to the rear view mirror. "And when I have you begging, that's when the fun starts for me. You see I have this fun little knife." He tells you, holding up the first blade. "This knife will sure look good against that fair skin of yours. And what will look even better will be the deep red of your blood running down your body."

You shivered then, the threat becoming too much to take. You were lucky, in a small sense of the word, because Dean was slowing the Impala down, pulling into the parking lot of a seedy two story motel. Pulling into a parking spot, Dean shut the engine off, before opening your door and grabbing your arm. It was only a couple of steps until he was opening a faded wooden door and shoving you inside.

Tripping over your own feet, you let your eyes adjust to the darkened room, taking in the wood paneling along the wall, the lime green and yellow comforters, and the old velvet couch where Crowley was currently sprawled.

"Finally." He muttered, swishing the glass of brandy that was in his hand. "I was beginning to wonder if she had gotten the best of you Dean."

"Shut up." Dean growled, before he sprawled on his belly on one of the beds. He must not be too worried about you escaping, because he laid there with his eyes closed, his arms and legs spread completely across the bed. You took the opportunity to use the bathroom, listening to the conversation on the other side of the door.

"Why the hell did you bring her with us?" Crowley seethed.

"Because she amuses me, always has. Seems like a good way to pass some time." Dean answered, his voice muffled on the bed.

"True, but you promised as soon as you sowed some oats we would get down to business. And I'm pretty sure it's been long enough. "Crowley argued.

"Last I checked you weren't exactly in charge here." Dean said, his voice smooth, deep and annoyed.

"I'm just worried you're letting little Dean make too many decisions here." Crowley argued, as you flushed the toilet.

"Nah, he just helps with some of my decisions." Dean smarted off. "Anyways, I have a plan in place. I know Sam's coming after me, so if I use her as a distraction, I can get away, easy. I don't really care if she lives or dies, but Sam's too much of a softie. He will have to stop an help her."