Wayward •𝚂𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕•

twenty

Melody opted to get her own room the night after they'd left the motel. She needed some time to herself, no matter how much Dean protested—begging may be the more appropriate word.

Melody had grown quite accustomed to being alone, while Dean was in purgatory. It was especially relaxing after particularly stressful days. She painted her nails and listened to some Van Halen while eating a burger and drinking a shake.

Dean, on the other hand, was absolutely panicking. After their spat back in Kearney, things seemed to blow over quite well for the brothers. Though, what if Melody wouldn't be as quick to forgive? It took her years to completely get over him never calling back when they were younger. How long would it take her to get over him holding a gun level with her head with the intent on killing her, regardless of whether or not he was in control of his body.

"Everything's going to be fine, Zippy," Blair mumbled as she thumbed through a magazine while her head rested in Sam's lap. Her careless grin was nauseating to Dean in that moment. "Give her the night to herself, so she can process the fact that you almost killed her."

"That's exactly why it's not fine," Dean objected. "I pointed a friggin' gun at her head. Now she thinks that I'm not over the whole Greg thing, and I'm going to have to tell her about Benny because of your big mouth."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother. "Obviously you're not over the Greg thing, for starters," he sat up a little straighter against the headboard. "And as far as Benny goes, she needs to know. We all should have known from the jump, because it's nuts."

"I'd still like to know about Benny," Blair interjected, raising her pointer finger in the air for emphasis.

"You're Switzerland," Dean shook his head. "You get to know nothing." Blair's pointer finger dropped, and she replaced it with her middle finger, aiming her fire right at Dean. "In your dreams, sweetheart."

Blair feigned disgust with a fake gag. "I'm going to need Melody to forgive you pretty damn quick, because I'm about to puke my guts up."

Dean dismissed himself from the couple's room, and started towards his own. He stopped in front of Melody's for a second, considering knocking and praying she answered. Then he weighed in what Blair had said, and maybe she was right. He went an entire year without her—what was one more night?

He silently wondered if she was okay sleeping alone, without him. Without her it felt like an hour was dragging by at each passing minute. It was the same thing he'd felt in Purgatory.

It was hopeless. In every pursuit Dean Winchester had ever encountered, he'd never been the defenseless one—never once did he feel vulnerable, or fearful to lose them. Melody was so much more than any of them were. The only woman who could have even remotely compare would have been Lisa, and even then Melody was on a whole entirely different level.

And still he found himself at her door at two in the morning. Knocking. Vulnerable. Eyes red from lack of sleep and maybe a bit of crying—he wasn't sure. All he knew was he had to make things right.

Melody stirred at the sound of the knock on her door. She slid her nine-millimeter out from under her pillow, and moved cautiously towards the door. She stood on her tippy toes to look through the smudged peep hole, only to find Dean in a sweater and his sweatpants that she loved so much. She let out a sigh of relief and contempt at the fact that he was waking her up at ungodly hours. After removing the chain, she swung the door open and turned on her heels before he could even open his mouth, retreating back to her bed.

"I could've been an axe murderer."

She held her handgun up showing that she was prepared, locking the safety back before sliding it under her pillow and crossing her legs in front of her. "What do you need." Her words were less of a question and more of a command to speak.