Request: Heyy! I’m sorry to be a bother. I was wondering if you can do a one-shot where the reader is prone to severe panic attacks and her husband Dean is the only one who knows how to calm her down? She gets a really bad attack but Dean for some reason ain’t there, and no one is able to help her but eventually, he comes back and takes care of her. Sorry if this is a lot haha.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: Trigger Warning… Anxiety, Panic Attack, Angst, Some fluff. That’s about it I think.
Word Count: 14479Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡai6cacQpr4
9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU5IN2k2WNM
It doesn’t start out hard and in your face, not always…
Usually, it’s a slow build over a course of days, sometimes hours, depending on what brought it on.
Not this time…
This time it felt like it hit you out of nowhere, and you didn’t even see it coming, not until it had already started to take hold of you.
The feeling like you’re being watched, paranoid over every little thing. That spine-tingling feeling that someone is following you, or watching you, judging you… and you know for a fact that no one is there.
The way your mind overplays things, making them out to be worse than what they are. Constantly playing over and over again like a broken record, things that normal people wouldn’t even pay attention to, but you, it drives you crazy.
Every little mistake on a constant repeat in front of your mind’s eye, not letting you let it go…
Like this morning when you were in the gas station for a supply run. Dean would be home today, and he needed beer when he got home from a hunt because he liked to have it, and you knew it.
So as a good girlfriend you always try to be, your OCD says you must have been at the bunker by the time Dean got home.
They had the counters cluttered, you set your purse down on the counter, in a hurry to get home before the storm hit, and the rain started, and in your hurry, you knocked over a small display of candy bars onto the floor.
There was a line of people behind you…
They saw your clumsy moment…
That was all it took…
Your mind hyper-focused on that one moment, playing it over and over again. It wasn’t your fault really. They shouldn’t have had all that shit stacked up on the counter, but your mind wouldn’t let it go.
It just kept playing the way people stared at you as you fumbled and tried to pick up the candy that had fallen over.
Even though they weren’t really staring at you, your mind made you think that they were, because that’s how anxiety works. It takes a situation that’s small and just makes it seem like this unforgivable, insurmountable thing.
Everyone that was in there had probably forgotten all about you, and the candy display by the time they got to their cars.
You thought, you could feel judgment that wasn’t there.
You know the signs, you dealt with anxiety all your life.
You know what’s coming….
You need to get home to Dean… He’s your distraction… Your grounding… Your safe space… He knows how to pull you out of your head before it goes too far…
Your Dean…
When you finally make it home and walk through the doors of the bunker Dean still isn’t home…
You slip a level deeper into your spiral, this time you don’t even notice it, your mind still hyper-focused on what happened in the gas station. You subconscious now mixing with the gut-wrenching questions on top of your own humiliations…
Where’s Dean?
He and Sam should have been home an hour ago?
Has something happened?
Are they hurt?
Did they get in a wreck?
Should you go look for them?
Taking a deep breath you shove it down and try to rationalize it…
They just ran into traffic or stopped for lunch. They’ll be home soon…
So you put away the supplies and go take a shower, trying to relax, stave off what you know is coming.
Your heart rate feels higher than normal. Your hyper-focused state doesn’t allow you to see that it’s just stress, and you’re doing it to yourself.
“Oh God, something is wrong with me. I’m going to die. I won’t ever see Dean again…”
Your Dean…
Just that simple thought causes your hands to shake, and your chest to tighten around your lungs.
“There was so much I wanted to do, and now I won’t get to because I’m dying..”
“I wanted to see Dean one more time. Let him hold me one more time. See his smile. Feel his warmth… But my heart rate is up, and I’m going to die before he gets here… Now I won’t get to see him again…"
Your Dean…
You just wanted to see your Dean…
Your heart is now pounding in your ears as you try to dry yourself off and make your way to the bedroom you shared with Dean…
You feel a little dizzy.
“Oh, God… Is this it…”
“How will Dean find me?”
“On the floor in the hallway. On the floor of our bedroom… In our bed? Would he think you were just sleeping… Leaving your dead body there for hours?”
“Will he burn your body? Give you a hunter’s funeral?”.
“Will he do something stupid to try and get you back?”
Your chest grew tighter and tighter as your mind continued to reel. Your breaths felt like they were becoming harder and harder to take as you slid down the wall not three feet away from the door of your shared room.
Everything started to sound like it was underwater. Your world started swimming around you. Your vision is blurring as you start to lose consciousness.
You could hear a roaring sound like someone was yelling, but you couldn’t be sure everything sounded so far away…
Out of nowhere thick, strong arms wrapped around your shaking form and Dean’s cologne invaded your scenes…
Were you hallucinating?
Did you die?
Is this your heaven… Dean shouldn’t be here… He should be alive…
"Y/N, sweetheart, breath, you got to breathe for me okay? Breath with me baby.”
You heard Dean take a deep breath, and you desperately wanted to do what he was telling you to do, but you couldn’t make your body do what your brain said you need to do.
Dean’s large hand came to the side of your face, making you look at him. His piercing green eyes invaded your vision, making you focus on him.
“Y/N/N, come on sweetheart, focus on me. It’s not real, whatever happened to you is not real. I’m real. I’m right here with you. You need to concentrate. I need you to breathe, baby girl.”
Dean was real. He was there… You weren’t imagining it… Your Dean was there… He was home…
Take a deep breath with him this time your lungs burned in protest, but you did it. Counting to five in your head before letting it go. Then again… Every breath becomes easier…
“That’s it, baby…That’s my girl… I gotcha just breathe…" Dean’s deep voice vibrated through your body as he held it to his thick chest, his hands making a trail up and down your spine, calming you, grounding you like only your Dean could.
Slowly your world came back into focus after a long time of just sitting in the hallway in Dean’s lap as he brought you back down from your panic attack. Probably the worst one you’ve had in a while.
Dean whispered comforting words to you until he was sure you were completely out of it before standing up with you in his arms like you weighed nothing at all, bringing you into your shared bedroom, and laying you down on his bed. Sliding in behind you, and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you back to his chest, your head laying right over his heart. The sound of its steady rhythm helps to calm your own racing heart.
"That was the worst one I’ve seen you have since the night we got married, baby girl. What happened? Do you want to talk about it?” Dean asks as he plays with your hair, placing little butterfly kisses on your face, letting you know he was there, and that he loved you.
You thought back to that moment in the store when it all started to happen. When you knocked the candy display off the counter, but that really wasn’t what triggered it. You could see that now.
You’d been in your head for days, and you knew it. This hunt was a long one, and time away from Dean always was stressful, making your anxiety levels higher than normal.
“I really don’t know Dean… Guess I was just missing you… Got all in my own head… Blew little things out of proportion. You know me,” you tell him, and you nuzzle yourself into his neck, breathing him in and letting him feel all of you and wash it all away as only he could.
Your Dean…
Dean placed a chaste kiss on the top of your head and tucked the covers around the two of you tighter. Exhaustion was pulling at you, and he knew how much a panic attack on that level took it out of you.
“I’m right here sweet girl. I’m not going anywhere. I’m safe, you’re safe, I’ve got you, baby girl. I’ll always be here."
Dean started humming slightly, and everything faded to black as consciousness gave way to a peaceful sleep.
The first one in days.
Your Dean… Your world. He was home. You were safe. He was safe. Everything was right again…
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