Fighter: Dean Winchester (REVAMPED VERSION)

αғтer ѕcнool ѕpecιαl; pαrт oɴe

December '08

Love. It's a beautiful thing, isn't it? One moment, Dean and I are sharing our first time, wrapped up in the bliss of having each other to hold at night. The next, he's telling me he thought we'd be together—until he met his match.

His exact words were: "Why focus on building a future when I'm just gonna die sooner rather than later?"

Shocking, right? Definitely not what I expected.

It sounds like a far cry from the guy who chased me relentlessly, the guy who said he didn't care that my mother knew him and his parents before we even thought about getting into bed together.

I still cringe when I think about that moment.

At first, I thought he was joking. I was waiting for the punchline, a twist that would let me breathe again. But... he didn't take it back. He meant it.

Do I believe him? No. Did it still hurt to hear? Yeah. A lot.

Hopes and dreams are easy when you're just thinking about them, floating in the future somewhere. But then, when it's time to step up and make them real, that's when it gets scary as hell. Especially for people like us. I think Dean's terrified of holding on to a future that might never come true.

I know he is.

And instead of admitting that, he lied.

In other news, Sam's back to running around with Ruby, not surprisingly. I can smell the demon on him. That foul, unmistakable stench of dark energy clinging to him.

Anyway, we're in Fairfax, Indiana now. Some girl drowned her classmate in the toilet. Sam's inside the mental hospital, playing nurse and asking questions.

If this turns into a case... I have a feeling we're in for one hell of a treat.

"Ahem!" Dean cleared his throat loudly from the driver's seat, but Nadia didn't even glance up from her journal.

He sat still for a moment, staring out the window as though he hadn't just tried to get her attention.

With a deep sigh, Nadia rolled her eyes, her pen still gliding across the paper.

"How uh, how's the writing goin'?" Dean asked again, his voice casual, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Fine," Nadia replied without looking up, her focus unwavering.

"Cool, cool. What you writin' about?"

"You."

"Good things, I hope."

Nadia finally tilted her head to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "What do you think?"

Dean winced slightly, his hands gripping the wheel. "Okay, so you're mad."

"I'm not mad," she muttered, her eyes narrowing at him before returning to her writing.

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not. A little peeved maybe, but not mad. If I was mad, you'd know."

Dean snorted, shaking his head. "You asked a question, and I answered it."

"Yeah, horribly," Nadia shot back, closing her journal with a soft thud. "You don't sleep with somebody and then tell them you're just gonna be with them until you die, which might be soon. Then again, maybe I should've asked before sleeping with you. Yeah, you know what? I'll take fault for this one."