The Witch and The Hunters

CHAPTER FORTY

Page count: 5

Hermione stood in the shower of her motel room, her head pressed to the tiled wall and the hot water running down her back, washing away the tension in her muscles.

She had killed a teenage girl. That was the only thought that kept running through her mind. She had killed a seventeen year old girl.

But what got to her the most wasn't that she had killed a teenage girl, it was that she knew she would do it again if it meant keeping Dean safe. She needed him to be safe. She needed him alive and healthy. She needed him to not be hurt.

She cared for him. Deeply. She was more than just attracted to him, she was attached to him. She couldn't even contemplate not waking up to his wandering hands or his breath disturbing her curls, tickling her. She couldn't contemplate not hearing his teasing comments, his amused laughter or even seeing that damn irritating smirk of his.

He wanted her just as much as she wanted him. She knew it. She could feel it. She could see it. The way he acted around her and towards her spoke volumes.

She needed him and she knew it. She needed him to lessen the affect of her nightmares. She was more rested than she had ever been, her nightmares being nowhere near as vivid as they once were, and occasionally, she would have a nice dream, of which Dean was of course present in. She needed him to comfort her, which he did without even realising he was doing it, and without her realising that she had needed it. She always felt better in his presence. Lighter. Happier. Cared for.

She was screwed and she knew it. Because, she was falling madly in love with Dean Winchester. This wasn't going to end well, she should just break things off between them and leave to protect herself from getting hurt in the long run. But she couldn't do it. She couldn't leave him.

She would kill for him and she had, a teenage girl, and she would do it again.

Arms snaked around her stomach and a warm body pressed against her. She sighed when a kiss was placed to the back of her neck and she reached up and changed the angle of the shower head, so the water would cover the both of them.

"We didn't go there to kill her," he said, resting his chin on her shoulder and looking at the tiled wall, watching her face's reflection in the surface. "We tried to reason with her, you gave her the chance to redeem herself. Her actions caused her death, it wasn't your fault."

"I know," she replied, sounding tired. "I don't feel guilty for killing her," she confessed and she turned in his arms to face him, her hands coming up to rest on his chest, her fingers tracing his runic and anti-possession tattoos.

"I feel guilty that I would do it again." She refused to look at him. He brought a hand up to her chin, tilting her head so she was forced to look at him, his green eyes staring into her very soul, searching for something. "I would do it again," she repeated. "If it meant that you were safe, then I would kill anyone that ever threatened your safety."

"You would?" He questioned quietly, sounding almost vulnerable and her heart all but melted.

"I would," she confirmed. "I killed Jane for you. To keep you safe. I couldn't control it. I wasn't in control of my actions, my mind fogged over and I couldn't think coherently, I was no longer in control of myself, it was as if I was stood on the sidelines, watching myself act to save you, but I wasn't actually the one to do it," she frowned slightly. "I can't explain it, but I needed you to be safe, I need you to be safe."

She sighed, pulling her eyes from his gaze and looking down at his chest, watching her fingers as they traced over the ink. His hand on her chin tilted her head up once more. His eyes locked onto her, once again searching for something.