Supernatural Season Three: A Dean Winchester Love Story

Bedtime Stories (2)

Bedtime Stories (2)

Kylie's POV

Dear .  . . do we have to do this again? We clearly know that I'm not a normal girl, so I don't even know what to call you, but John has once again told me to write down whatever I'm feeling in this book. I don't know what he wants me to say. I don't know why this is so important to him. It was almost as if he was searching for answers. What answers could I give? Dad never let me in on any of the hunting gigs, he hid as much he could from me. I always feel like I'm letting him down. 

I let everyone down.

At least I have Dean . . . for now. He tries to take care of me like he does Sam, but I feel so guilty. I don't deserve anything he does for me. I do my best to help him with his brother, making sure he's fed and  clothed. He always frowns when I help him, telling me that he's the big brother and it was his job, but the frown would turn into a smile. 

I like seeing him smile.

"Hey." 

I jumped when Dean slid into the booth across from me, there was a big grin on his face as he picked up the menu.

"How'd you find me?" I asked confused as I slid the journal out of his sight. 

I had left the motel in the early hours of the morning, unable to get comfortable in the bed I had to share with Sam. As far as I was concerned, both men were still snoring happily when I had left. 

I just needed some air, but my feet had continued walking down the road until I ended up at another crappy diner that was open 24/7. It was the same as every diner I had been to. Sticky floors and chewed gum stuck under the tables. I don't even know why I came here in the first place.

"This is the only diner within walking distance, and since the impala wasn't stolen-"

"Thank God." I rolled my eyes playfully as I traced patterns on the table, not looking him in the eye.

"You want to talk about it?" He asked, dropping the menu slightly to study my face with his green eyes.

I hummed before finally glancing up at him. His face was concerned, but also understanding. He already knew the answer, I didn't have to say it.

Slowly he nodded his head, his lips stretching into a small smile. "You want to share some pancakes with me. I'll even get the blueberry ones so you can tell Sam how you had fruit for breakfast." He dropped the menu completely as I chuckled. "Hey, there's my girl." 

My breath hitched at his words, my heart fluttering in my chest. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as I glanced down. 

Even after all the hell he has put me through, I still act like a school girl around him.

I shifted in my seat and cleared my throat, trying to hide any signs of embarrassment. My hands brushed against the soft fur on the journal that sat beside me. I felt connected to it in a weird way as if it was going to give me an insight into something big. "Hey Dean?" I called after swallowing a large lump in my throat.

"Hm?" He hummed as he placed his folded hands on the table, his leather jacket stretching along his arms.

"Do you-" I stopped as I tried to get the right words. "Do you remember anything weird about when we were kids?"

He snorted and rolled his eyes. "You mean weirder than our normal?"

I blew out breath knowing he was right. "Forget it."

His brows pulled together as his head tilted to the side. "No, come on. What's up?"

I rubbed the large knot that had formed in the back of my neck. I didn't know if it was from the crappy motel bed or the tension of my body. "So, when we found John's storage unit, I found this journal. Apparently I kept it when I was a kid, do you remember it?"