You blinked your eyes, wondering if you were seeing things. You knew Dean was longer a Demon, but no matter how hard you wished it, his eyes stayed black, and it terrified you.

You pressed your back against the bar, trying to get away.

"Y/N? What's a matter?" He asked you, taking a step closer, his hand out in front of him as if he was reaching for you.

"You're a Demon!" You stuttered, just as the bouncer came forward.

"Is there anything wrong?" He asked Dean, glaring at you. This bouncer had never cared for you, and made sure to send the most notorious clients your way.

"I was just trying to get some alone time with her." Dean explained, and the bouncer grabbed you by the arm.

"You know the deal Y/N, never refuse a client. Now get!" He growled in your ear, squeezing your arm hard enough to bruise it.

Shuddering, you knew you had no choice, unless you wanted to be punished. So you crossed the bar and made your way to Dean, who stood there staring at you with his black eyes.

"Y/N, I'm not here to hurt you." He told you, but he still placed his hand on your back to guide you back to your room, and you felt your body stiffen up at the touch.

"For some reason I don't believe you. You're a Demon." You said, watching as your room got closer and closer.

He didn't say anything, but kept steering you down the hallway. Upon entering your room, you jumped away from his touch, running to the far side of the bed.

"I don't know why I'm back here, and you're a Demon again, but please leave me alone!" You begged, frantically searching your room for any sort of weapon.  But you had nothing, and it wouldn't have mattered if you did, because Dean would be hard to kill.

"Y/N, you're in the nightmare from the Djinn. I need you to face your fear so I can get you out of here before you die."

"And a Demon is going to help with that?" You asked, backing up as he took a step closer.

"Damn it Y/N, I'm not a Demon, it's the stupid dream!" He yelled at you, and you flinched. Taking another step back, you moaned when your back hit the wall, and you realized you were trapped.

"Please, don't hurt me again." You sobbed, remembering all the torture Demon Dean had put your through.

Your eyes started flooding with tears, as your worst fear was once again in front of you, and you were trapped. Dean took this as his opportunity, reaching forward and grabbing your wrists in his hands.

"Y/N, you need to listen to me, I'm not here to hurt you. But I need you to fight me so I can get you out of here." He told you, and you stared up at him absolutely defeated.

"What can I do?" You finally asked.

"Well from the sounds of it, this club, and Demon Dean are your worst fears. I need you to fight your fear of me." He explained, but you still aren't sure what to do.

"I'm not sure." You mumbled.

He thought for a moment. "Well, Demon Dean usually had the upper hand, what if you take control?" 

You heard his words, but you still weren't sure you were brave enough to do it. You understood now that this all was part of the Djinn nightmare, but having to face your fear?

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, and Dean stayed still, watching you. Raising your hand, you cupped his cheek, ignoring the way your stomach churned at the sight of the black eyes in front of you.

If Dean had moved, you were sure you would have turned into a quivering mess, but he stayed still, and you were able to stand up on your tiptoes, where you placed your lips against his. Softly at first, but then you wrapped your arms around his back, pulling him tighter to you. He stayed still, letting you call all of the shots. Running your hands through his hair, you angled your head, nipping at his bottom lip, and just as he started to moan, everything went black.

"Y/N, come on sweetheart, wake up." You heard Dean's voice saying close to your ear.

"Mmm, too tired Dean. Five more minutes." You muttered, trying to turn to find a more comfortable position.

You felt him lightly slap your cheek. "sweetheart, show me those beautiful eyes, then I will let you go back to sleep. I promise." He insisted.

Sighing, you knew he wouldn't give up until he got what he wanted. Slowly opening your eyes, you squinted at the bright light shining through the window of the Impala.

"Dean, why am I in the Impala?" You asked trying to sit up, but Dean's hand on your shoulder stopped you.

"Woah, take it easy." He warned you. "We needed to get out of the factory."

You nodded, your head aching. "The Djinn? And the victims?" You asked, leaning back into Dean's chest.

"He's dead, thanks to you. And both victims are okay, we called the police to come pick them up." Sam told you from the drivers seat. It was then you noticed the car was moving down the highway, away from town.

"Our stuff at the motel?" You asked, attempting to sit up again. This time Dean didn't stop you, but he helped brace you until your back was against the seat. It was then you got a good look at Dean, who had a nice shiner on his jaw. "And what happened to you?"

He rubbed his cheek, wincing at how sore it was. "Sam grabbed our stuff. And I had to find a way to get unconscious, Sam helped with that."

You nodded, when understanding dawned. "It was really you in my dream then? Not a figure of my imagination?"

He squirmed in his seat, a little uncomfortable with your question. "Yeah, it was me."

"So, you saw everything?" You asked.

You watched him as he looked out the window, and you worried. "I did."

Before you could try to move the conversation along, Sam was pulling into the bunker's garage. "Home sweet home." He joked, trying to ease a little of the tension that was currently filling the Impala. Dean climbed out, leaving you and Sam behind to stare after him.

"What happened in your dream?" Sam asked you, while taking all of the bags. You were busy trying to get your legs back in working order.

Sighing you answered him. "I was back at the club, and when I saw Dean, he was a Demon, and I might have freaked out over that."

Sam didn't judge, or say anything. He just patted you on the back before moving on. You followed behind, heading up to the library, where Dean was already seated, a glass of whiskey in one hand, a bottle in the other.

"Dean, can we talk?" You asked him.

He poured a glass, taking a sip before turning to you. "What's there to talk about? The fact that no matter how hard I try I'm still your worst nightmare?"