Reckless [Dean Winchester]

44. Something to Hold Onto

44. Something To Hold Onto

"Max." I feel my hair move away from my face. "Max."

I stifle a groan and cuddle with the pillow more.

"Come on, Max. Wake up."

I wrinkle my nose a second after it gets flicked. I grumble to myself, rubbing my tired eyes. "What, Dean?"

"Come on, out of bed."

"What's going on?" I sit up, scratching the back of my head. "Are we leaving now?"

"No, I've got something better planned."

I yawn. "Dean, do you know what time it is?"

"Max, you've been asleep since noon. It's only seven at night." Dean holds my arms, tugging me slowly off the bed. "It's time you woke up."

"This better be worth disturbing me for, Winchester."

The throaty chuckle sends goosebumps through me. "It will be. Promise."

Dean practically leads me through the halls, keeping ahold of me. Since Crowley pretty much said that I'm next in line to die, he's spared other lives for now. We all safely assume that once I'm dead, he goes to the next name on the list, so on and so forth. It's a bit settling, to know that no one else is going to die for a few days. Bad news is that I'm the next one slated for death.

But that doesn't mean we haven't been prepping for my departure for Normal. We'd all mutually agreed that the day I exhibit any signs, we ship me off home with a hex bag in hand and a few extra parting gifts, just in case.

"What's this about anyway?"

"Figured you and I could take a nice drive, get lost somewhere."

I roll my eyes. "Gee, that sounds awesome. Getting lost."

"Lighten up a bit, Max."

"I would if you hadn't woken me up."

"You weren't sleeping well anyway. You were having another bad dream."

Those seem to happen all too often now. I purse my lips. We enter the bunker library to find Sam, what a shocker, on his laptop. He barely seems to acknowledge us, which doesn't seem that strange to me. Dean probably told him what he was doing prior to the moment. I still have no freaking clue as to why Dean decided it was worth waking me up.

The air is surprisingly cool out. Gentlemanly, Dean gets the passenger's side door open. I thank him with a timid smile as I climb in. I roll down the window a bit as I wait for him to get into his designated seat and start the engine. I lean my head against the seat, having my face get hit with the air.

The Impala's hum nearly pulls me back into sleep. If it wasn't for Dean grabbing my hand, I would have fallen asleep. I look up at the dark skies, see the tiny dots of light. I readjust my head, hearing the soft rock play through the car radio.

I know this isn't a hunt, otherwise Sam would have come along ages ago.

I still don't know where we're going. I know if I ask for hints, Dean won't give me a peep. I know he's not taking me somewhere bad, and he's not taking me back to Illinois just yet. There's something behind this. We've never done this.