𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝙷𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛[𝙳.𝚆]

098

I sat in Dean's room for a while, just staring at him. I didn't touch him. I didn't talk to him. Just stared at him. I was trying to hear, or feel, whatever it was that Sam felt. But I didn't feel anything. It angered me. How was I supposed to be powerful when I couldn't even feel Dean's spirit.

Maybe he wasn't in the room?

He definitely was.

Sam left a good twenty minutes ago, which means I've just been sitting here, unmoving, for maybe fifteen. I didn't even know what to say to him. There were so many things. I didn't even know if I'd ever be able to talk to him face to face again, with his beautiful shiny bright green eyes that I love so much looking back at me.

I raise my good hand up and keep it there, hesitating to touch him. I was afraid any contact would have me breakdown all over again. Forcing myself to woman up, I gently reach out and grab his hand. His skin wasn't warm, but it wasn't cold like the last time he was in the hospital which I guess is good.

I graze my thumb over the cuts on his fingers, wanting to kiss each one away, but I don't. His hands were so big compared to mine, it was honestly quite fascinating. I spread his fingers out and pressed my palm against his, giggling a bit at the size difference. My hands looked like a child's compared to his.

I couldn't see him as a spirit, but he was smiling sadly at me.

"You've got some big hands, honey." I smile, looking up at his face and it slowly falls.

Oh.

I was so intrigued by our hands and contact that I almost forgot he didn't feel any of it—see any of it.

"I never really noticed till now." I say sadly, putting it back to his side and raising my hand to his cheek, rubbing my knuckles over the stubble that's grown. "You know, I also never really noticed till now how much I miss your kisses, your hugs—man do you give the best hugs. What I'd do for one of those right now." I chuckle as a tear betrays me and slips down my cheek. "I miss your laugh, your smile, your stupid jokes, our constant arguing—everything..." I brush his hair back softly. "I miss us, Dean." My voice was so quiet, I barely heard myself. "You make me so damn happy, Dean. When I'm with you, everything is brighter, more hopeful. I can even see clearer. I know that sounds cheesy and you don't like chick flick moments, but it's true." I wipe away the additional tears that have fallen using my shoulder. "When I left with your dad, it was hell. I mean, yeah, a big part of it was because he was an ass, and super controlling—don't know how you dealt with him your whole life by the way." I chuckle, moving my hand to cup the side of his face. "But it was also because I missed you. So, so much. Hunting with you, teaming up to prank Sammy, late night drives, stolen kisses. All of that was with you. I always compared you to your dad. How you were sweeter than him, how you were more fun to be around, how you would actually listen to me. It's just better with you. Everything is. And I can't..." I pause, removing my hand from his face to bring it back to my lap. "I can't live without you. If I suffered a month and a half without you, imagine what would happen to me if you were gone for good. I wasn't lying when I said I can't lose you, Dean." By now I'm quietly sobbing again.

God this man makes me such a mess.

"This—this is a lot harder than last time. At least then I was able to see your eyes—hear your voice." I sniff, looking down.
"You've ruined me, Dean Winchester." I quietly laugh through tears. I shake my head with pressed lips, staring at his closed eyes. "But I don't care. I love you. So much. So, please—please come back so I can tell you when you're awake. I need you to fight for me. For Sammy. And for your dad. Okay?"