Smoke and Ash

10| I Don't Like Feelings. At All

I laid on my stomach in the guest bedroom at Bobby's, watching the red-orange flame in my hand bounce around from finger-to-finger,

The door opened and Bobby came in, holding up a red book.

"What's that?" I asked, blowing out the flames and sitting up, crossing my legs.

"A book?" he answered. "Don't you demons have books in Hell?"

"We're not big readers. But we do occasionally get the paper from time to time to catch us up." I answered. "What's the book?"

"Just a bunch of fairytales my wife used to love reading." he held up the book and tossed it to me, making me catch it. "Thought you'd enjoy the stories in there."

"Oh. Thanks. That's...unexpected." I said, setting the book aside.

"Yeah. Well. See you." Bobby said, and left the room as Dean entered.

"What do you want?" I asked with an immediate frown. "Come here to yell at me some more?"

"No." he gently shut the door behind him and walked over to the bed, standing in front of me. "I didn't like what you did back there in the sewers."

"Yeah. We established that." I said.

"Okay, can you just shut up and listen to me here? I'm trying to tell you something."

"...okay. Make it fast, cuz I was just about to get some beauty rest." I said.

"I'm a hunter. You're a demon. I'm supposed to kill your kind. But I feel like I need to protect you."

"Is it because I'm so beautiful?" I joked.

He chuckled. "I'm trying to make a point here. If you could just hold on for a few more minutes."

"Continue." I gestured for him to continue.

"The point is, I...need you alive."

"For the apocalypse."

"For me."

"....what?" I asked, confused.

Dean sat beside me on the bed, taking my hand between his, holding them between us as he spoke. "I know I always put you down and make you feel horrible about yourself, but that's just me. I don't know how to express—whatever this is."

"So....what, exactly are you saying, Dean?"

"I'm sorry. I was being stupid." he apologized. "God, I was so damn stupid. And I'm sorry, Bianca."

"You're....sorry." I echoed, looking at him.

"Yes. I'm sorry." he saw my confused stare. "Do...you not understand apologies?"

I slowly shook my head. "Not really, no. Demons don't really do the whole...apologizing thing. You know. Because we don't have feelings."

"So. You still don't have any feelings? Towards anything?"

"No. I-I do. I just—I don't understand them, is all. This whole feelings thing is all very new to me."