You turned the corner into the dark living room and the scene before you was not at all what you had expected. All the furniture had been pushed against the wall so the middle of the room was empty. Empty except for an altar encircled with white pillar candles, covered in black cloth and various supernatural items most of which you could not identify. A woman stood behind the altar and smiled when you walked in. She was beautiful. Shorter than you, small and petite, with long raven hair, pale white skin and piercing blue eyes. You froze, unsure of what you'd walked into. You were here hunting a ghost; this witch was not even on your radar. And besides, you were not prepared for this, throwing salt on a witch did nothing.
The woman chanted quickly in Latin, too quickly for you to translate, and it was nothing you'd ever heard before. Beyond the standard exorcism ritual Latin was, well, Latin to you. She threw something into the bowl on the altar and it exploded in bright red light. You stood, frozen staring at it, you couldn't move, or blink or even breath. You were frozen.
Castiel was wandering around the library, occasionally picking up a book, examining it and putting it back. You were huddled under a blanket in the big armchair again, slipping in and out of sleep. You realized you weren't dreaming so much as finally remembering. You saw yourself on the hunt, working the case, and then that night the witch found you. The memories were still fragmented, but they were becoming longer and started to move together to make more sense.
Sam and Dean had been gone for only a few hours but the waiting was driving you crazy. You hated being benched, hated sitting around with nothing to do. You couldn't even pick up a book or do any sort of research without your head searing in pain. So you sat and watched Castiel as he walked around the big room.
"Don't you have anything better to do?" You asked as he passed by you again.
"I am doing exactly what I should be doing. I'm protecting you." He said without looking at you. His fingers ran over the spine of a large book on the shelf next to you. "How are you feeling?"
"Oh just wonderful." You said sarcastically. "I'm cursed, I want to kill my boyfriend, I haven't slept in days and I keep having crazy-ass visions of murder. Yeah, I'm just peachy."
"I have never understood why humans compare themselves to fruit."
"Do you even listen to me when I talk?"
Castiel turned and looked at you with his classic head tilt. "I am listening to you." He said. "I can help you sleep if you'd like."
"What do you mean, you can knock me out?" You didn't like the sound of that at all, but you were exhausted and every time you closed your eyes another vision took over. Maybe if he helped you could rest.
"Yes. I could help you sleep," said the angel. He looked sad, like he truly wanted to help you get through this.
"That would be… awesome. Yes, do that please." you said, wrapping the blanket around you a little tighter. "What do I do?"
Cas leaned over and very gently placed two fingers on your forehead.
There was blood everywhere. It covered your hands. You threw the knife to the floor and licked the blood off your fingertips. The iron sizzled on your tongue.
The witch clapped her hands and moved closer to you. "I think you are ready my dear." she said. Her voice was like music in your head. You smiled at her. She was so beautiful; you loved her so much. Everything about her was perfect, and you'd do whatever she wanted. All she had to do was ask for it and you'd do it.
Three, four, five men, all dead by your hands. You stood still with the pile of bodies at your feet, calmly waiting for your instructions.
Cas was trying to wake you. You could feel his hands on your arms, shaking you, but you couldn't wake. He called your name but you slipped back into the darkness.
"The Winchesters must be stopped." The witch walked towards you slowly. You held you breath waiting for her, you smiled, wanting to be good and make her happy. Every bit of you craved her, wanted to see her, hear her voice, to touch her, to be touched by her. "They are truly evil. They kill everyone and everything they meet; they've almost ended the world more than once. They are bumbling idiots with the keys to the kingdom and we cannot let them continue." You nodded in agreement. She was right: they had to be stopped. Abigail reached out and touched your cheek with her delicate fingers. You closed your eyes and turned your face into the touch, it felt like heaven. You breathed again and let the bliss of being close to her wash over you. "Will you kill them for me?"
You opened your eyes immediately and sighed, "Yes."
"Then come to me now. Do what you have to do."
Your eyes shot open and you found yourself nose to nose with Castiel, his blue eyes wide, face contorted with worry. You swallowed and pushed yourself up in the chair.
"Woa, Cas, what are you doing?" You were a little disoriented, your head was fuzzy but pain-free for the first time in weeks.
"I could not wake you Y/N. You were crying in your sleep. Are you all right?" He asked, his hand still on your shoulder, the best gesture of comfort he could manage.
You wiped at your cheeks with your fingers and felt the track of tears. "I'm ok. Yes, sorry. I feel…good." You did, you felt really good. Peaceful. "How long was I out?"
Cas stood up, "Not long. Your dreams seemed…disturbed."
You got to your feet and threw the blanket aside. "No, I feel fine. I'm good. Thanks for the, ya know, magic nap." You smiled. Castiel looked at you suspiciously but didn't say anything further. "Hey, maybe we should go check on the guys. They might need our help."
Castiel shook his head. "No. You need to stay here."
"I'm fine. What if they're in trouble? You can fly us to them in a second, come on Cas." You needed to get to Sam and Dean right away, and Cas's wings were the fastest transportation you knew of.
The angel turned away and shook his head again. "It is not a good idea. You need to stay here with me. Sam and Dean will be fine. And if they need help, I will go…alone."
Don't let him stop you…Get rid of him…
You clenched your jaw but tried to stay cool. There were other options if he wouldn't take you. "Ok, sorry." You bit your tongue and tried to think up a plan. "I'm gonna go take a shower." You said finally.
"I will wait here." Castiel said with a nod.
You must hurry…
You stood alone in your room, blood pouring from your left hand where you had cut it with you knife. You dipped your fingers in the warm crimson pool and painted on your wall.
They are coming to kill me…You mustn't let them get to me…
With your work complete you stuck your head out into the hallway and screamed; your voice echoing through the empty bunker. "Cas! Help!" You ran back towards your painting and waited. You were calm and ready, your course was set and you would not fail.
Castiel appeared in your doorway within seconds. "Y/N?"
You smiled at him wildly and pressed your bloody hand to the center of the Angel Banishing Sigil you'd created. A flash of light burst through your room, sending Castiel away and leaving you alone to continue your mission.
With a quick scan of the maps and printouts Sam had left in his room you found out where they were going. It wasn't far and if you drove fast enough you could make it in time.
You drove down the highway like a maniac. It was dark and it had started to rain, but the road was empty. Nothing would have stopped you anyway; you had to get to Abigail and save her, hell, save the world from the Winchesters.
You took your exit and pulled off to the side of the road. You had no idea where to go next.
Time is running out…
You dialed Dean's number and waited anxiously.
"Y/N? What's wrong?" He answered, whispering into the phone.
"Nothing, I'm OK. I just… where are you?" You tried to sound scared and desperate, like you needed him to come home.
"What? Where's Cas? I can't really talk right now." He said quickly.
"Where are you? I'm worried Dean."
He wasn't buying your act at all. "Just stay put. This is almost over. I'll be home soon." Dean hung up on you and you threw your phone down, aggravated. You stared out the window at the rain, not having a clue what to do or how to find them. Sam's notes only got you to the town, after that the trail disappeared. You slammed your hands against the steering wheel and let out a little scream.
Seconds later a vision came to you, this one wasn't a memory, this was happening now: An old dark house, the Impala, street signs, and Abigail's face.
You blinked to clear your eyes and started the engine.
The house was on the corner of Alston and 12th Street, set back a bit from the road by a large overgrown yard. The Impala was parked two blocks away like you knew it would be. You drove past it, checking for the boys, it was empty: they must already be inside the house.
You parked and checked your weapons. You sheathed your hunting knife and shoved it in its spot under your jacket, your gun was loaded and ready and you carried it with you, ready to go.
You slipped in the back door, and listened, searching the house with your ears. It didn't take long to figure out where to go, you could hear Sam and Dean struggling and you could practically feel how close you were to Abigail. Your heart leapt at the thought of seeing her again and you moved forward swiftly.
Turning a corner you walked into a large room that looked much like the rest of the house, it was in shambles, walls and ceilings haven partially fallen down, dust and dirt everywhere. You wanted to scream out in excitement: you had found them! Sam was closest to you and you aimed your gun at his back. He had his own gun trained at the front of the room: your eyes followed it to see Abigail holding Dean magically against the wall by the throat. Sam was yelling at Abigail, screaming threats that you couldn't hear. All you saw was her and you knew what you had to do. Your stomach flipped and you took at step forward. "Hey there Sammy."
His head snapped around towards you, his mouth dropped open. "Y/N!"
"Excellent! You made it!" Abigail laughed and smiled at you. The sound made your heart melt, your body relaxed and you smiled, never taking your eyes off of Sam.
You could see how panicked he was, "Y/N, put the gun down."
"Oh Sam…I'm not gonna do that, sorry."
Sam put his hands up, "OK, OK… just think about this." He said. He put his own gun down on the ground by his feet and tried to reason with you, "You're under a spell. This isn't you. You don't want to do this."
"Ah but she does want to do this." Abigail's voice drifted over to you. You smiled again. "Don't you darling?"
"I really do Sam." You laughed.
You squeezed the trigger and watched as Sam fell to the ground. A wave of relief washed over you, your head buzzed with contentment. One down. You smiled, wide eyed and stepped over Sam's body towards the witch. She released Dean and he slid down the wall, crashing to the floor, red and gasping for air.
Abigail came towards you and you froze, waiting patiently for her. "Very, very good Y/N." You entire body tingled when she said your name; you were so happy that you pleased her. The witch moved close and her lips brushed your cheek. The kiss sent electricity all through you; you closed your eyes and basked in the sensation. "One more…" She whispered.
You looked across the room at Dean. He was down on all fours, struggling to get to his feet. You ran to him and kicked him hard in the stomach. He fell over onto his side and you kicked again. You attacked him, kicking and punching and using all your strength to keep him down. He fought back defensively, blocking your blows, knocking the gun from your hands. He gagged, clutching his gut and calling your name, trying to stop you. You couldn't hear his cries. You couldn't see the blood or the tears on his face. You couldn't feel his hands grabbing your leg, begging you to stop.
"Finish it." said the witch behind you.
You reached down and grabbed a fistful of Dean's flannel and pulled him up so he was kneeling in front of you. You pulled the knife from under your jacket and ran the tip of the blade slowly down along his jaw. He looked up at you, emerald eyes begging you to stop. "Y/N, please…"
"Shh…" You smiled down at him, "It'll all be OK." You kissed his lips quickly and then stood back, knife raised high above you. You brought it down swiftly towards his chest and he pushed you backwards hard. He reached up and grabbed your attacking hand, locking his hand around the knife handle with yours. You screamed and struggled to bring the knife down into him. He climbed to his feet and used his height to dominate the fight, forcing your hands down. You clawed at his hands, refusing to let go of the knife. You screamed and growled and spat at him as he wrestled with you, each of you now fighting for your life.
Behind you Sam slowly climbed to his feet and picked up his gun. Abigail heard him and turned to deal with the tall hunter.
Dean had finally gained an edge in the fight and moved the knife down between you both, turning the blade towards your stomach and away from his.
Sam wasted no time, took aim and fired two shots into the witch's head.
Abigail began to fall and your vision went blurry, the shot rang out in your ears, making you dizzy. Her body hit the floor and the curse lifted, freeing your body and mind from her command. You felt her control flood out of you like a wave receding from the shore. Cold sweat broke out all over your skin and you finally woke up, clear headed and terrified as if you'd been asleep this whole time; you looked at Dean and saw that you were waking up into a nightmare.
"Dean?" You croaked. Your voice was small and pitiful. He looked into your eyes and saw you were back, but it was too late: his hands continued their motion, driving the blade into your abdomen.
You fell, knees buckling as the pain ripped through you. Dean held you and you sank to the floor in his arms. "Dean…" Your hands went to the knife still inside your gut.
"Don't touch it. Oh my god…Sam!" He screamed for his brother.
You suddenly remembered everything you'd done. "Sam… I killed Sam!" You cried, tears spilling freely from your eyes. It was getting harder to breathe.
"No, no Y/N, Sam's fine. You hit his shoulder." Dean's fingers brushed the hair back from your face. "You're a terrible shot." He laughed.
"Dean…I can't…" You swallowed hard, trying to apologize before you couldn't anymore. "I'm sorry. I should have…listened to you. I shouldn't have left."
"Sam! We gotta get her out of here. Get the car…run!" He looked down into your eyes and smiled, trying to keep you calm. "It's OK. You're gonna be fine. I got you."
It was getting harder to focus; you stared at Dean's face, counting the freckles that danced across his nose. You touched them, running your index finger over his skin gently. "I love you," you sighed and closed your eyes.
"Don't do that. Y/N! Stay awake, look at me! Hey! Hey! Y/N!"
How long did it take to say you're sorry? Probably twenty minutes or so: it was a long, drawn-out apology spanning many days and many transgressions. It took another few minutes for the three men in your life to say they accepted and forgave you. How long would it take before you didn't feel a wave of guilt hit you every time they looked at you? Probably forever.
It had been three weeks since the witch had fallen. The boys got you to an emergency room right away and they patched you up. Thankfully Dean hadn't hit any major organs or arteries and you would be fine, albeit on the mend for a while. You were mostly back to normal. The headaches were gone, but the memories were forever. You could remember everything, every second of being cursed and used and made to kill. Once the painkillers were used up you took to the bottle, drinking yourself to sleep each night in hopes the whiskey would keep the nightmares away.
Dean's rough fingers pried at yours trying to take the knife away. You kicked and screamed at him, pulling your arms down and wrestling with him. Your grip loosened and Dean took control, jamming the knife down into you, the sharp blade piercing your skin.
You sat straight up in bed, waking up, gasping for air. Tears shot down your face; the whiskey had done nothing to deaden your guilty subconscious tonight. Dean shifted next to you, waking up. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you back down to the mattress. "It's OK Y/N. I got you," he murmured and tugged you closer to him. You relaxed and turned towards him, fitting your head under his chin, your face pressed against his chest. It wasn't OK yet, but it would be. Dean kissed the top of your head. "I love you." He said, drifting back to sleep.
"I love you too Dean." You shut your eyes and willed your mind to think of happier things: of you and Dean together, of joy rides in the Impala, of nights out with Sam and Cas, of friends and hugs and family.
A/N: Thanks so much for reading! I am in love with this story! Hope you liked it.