Life with Dean and Sam Winchester.

Following Fowls With A Frowny Friend

---DEAN POV---

It was weeks since I saw Sam and Juliette off on their little mission to figure out what was going on in upstate New York at a small diner. Keyla and I, on the other hand, along with Ryan, went on, following the Pigeon-Bitch that was causing the blood-baths that was going on at Sam's old college, and before, destroyed Keyla's family.

now, though, it was a star-less night in the icy cold Rockies. Keyla was wearing an old and thick jacket that was much too big for her and her hair was tied back. She was wrapped up with a dark scarf and a pair of dark jeans and her signature hiking boots, but she was still shivering. "Ya cold?" I asked, a small smirk across my lips, expecting her usual response. Her brown eyes were as cold as the weather. She was not joking around at this time.

"Dean, Ryan is in there! He could DIE in there!" She whispered in a fierce anger cutting through the air. Her dark eyes then went and looked through her binoculars. Keyla was so stiff and serious as she watched Ryan in walking into the 'nest' of harpies. This was important to her. More than important. It was her last chance to slice and dice this birdie bitch before she disappeared for 30 years.

"Can we talk about what happened, though?" I asked, frowning and looking through my own pair of binoculars. My lips twisted as we lost sight of Ryan.

"What's there to talk about? We had sex and I keep imaging you naked every time you talk to me or look at me." Keyla stated and at that point, pulled her lips into a straight line. Her fingers gripped the binoculars tight.

"Well..." I stated, swallowing down a bit of thick salvia. "Key, you could tell me why you've suddenly had a pole up your ass around me." I wasn't being gentle about it. Her awnsers were getting snappier and shorter.

"Damn it, Dean." I heard her mutter under her breath before turning her brown eyes on me. "I just feel like I'm compromised and my feelings are getting in the way of the job..." Her voice was soft and I looked over at her, a brow raised. Her dark eyes shifted from mine. "I find you visibly enjoyable and sexually arousing." Her words were like Castiel's, making her embarrassment cute.

"Ditto." I grinned and her blush went wild. "You're blushing."

"Am Not! It's just...cold!" She whisper-screamed at me and then turned her eyes to the binoculars. The silence was a bit comforting. Like after we had sex and she curled into my side with that messy dark brown hair. The warmth and compassion of the silence was almost toxic between us.

Keyla was smiling a bit to herself as her coat was hugged tighter to her form. I smiled and wrapped my arm around her, bringing her close, causing her form to stiffen up, but then relax under my arm. She moved the binoculars from her eyes and looked over at me before giving my cheek a slight kiss. She then looked away and at the building across the way of the building top we laid upon.

I chuckled lightly, holding back a smile to myself as well as the urge to make her come closer to my side. I kept watching through my binoculars, and then we heard the scream. A tortured scream. Keyla was already away from my side, knife in hand and gun in her other. Blood splashed across the window pane that Ryan was in once.

Keyla ran in and I was close behind. The Harpies were flying off and out the windows, getting away from us. Keyla had kept running though, not stopping to take a breath or speak, or anything. She was focused on one thing. Ryan.

"K-Key!" I huffed as I reached the top of the stairs on the second floor landing, seeing as she had disappeared. Then, I heard it. A shriek. A loud and terrified shriek, then sobbing.

---KEYLA----

"NO!" I screamed and sobbed at the same time, falling to the side of my partner. His blue eyes were already glazed  over and his lips were parted and coughing up blood. He was trying his best to speak. I was trembling. I picked up his form that was ripped to shreds and his intrails dashed across the floor. "Ryan..." I sobbed. "R-R-Ryan...."

Ryan only smiled weakly up at me with that once stunning grin. "K-Keyla..." He whispered quietly, looking up at me with those weak and blue eyes. "I-I...I..." He tried to raise a hand, and I just grabbed it and held it, like the many times I did when I was frightened. "I...love you..." He whispered to me and then asked one thing of me. "Be strong, Blackbird..." He whispered lovingly before his lips fell slack and his form went limp.

I looked over him. His blood was slipped onto me, staining my clothing with the liquid of life and death. His skin was getting ashy and pale, though his skin was warm. He was turning cooler by the second. My eyes were blurred with thick and hot tears of emotion. "R-Ryan...." I said, gasping for air I couldn't get. My dark hair fell as my forehead was to his. "H-How D-Dare Y-You" I gasped again, "Leave me like this...." I whimpered as I held onto his head close.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, but I didn't register it of any importance. I couldn't even understand the words exiting the mouth of the man speaking to me. I just sat there, cradling and rocking the corpse of the man who had been my only friend for years that tried not to screw me. I sat like that for hours until I was dragged away from the form of Ryan by Dean while he explained to me and my red puffy-eyed self that he needed to be burned.

"Go On!" I screamed at him, watching him flinch. I covered my face with my blood soaked hands as I smelt his flesh burning and the bones turning to a crisp. He dragged me away and took me to a hotel, though I still didn't know or care where I was. I would have rather died for him than burning his body. I was pushed into the bathroom to take a shower, though I still hadn't listened to Dean. I showered and changed.

Quietly, I laid in my bed, though I did not sleep. I just sat there, emotionally drained and physically in a depression. The only guy who cared for me when I was sick other than my Brett. The only man that protected me through all of the shit. He was gone. Ashes. Dean was just a figure in the background though. I was silent for the longest time. I only spoke when I was asked a question by Dean.

Days, I laid awake, and Dean, he was worried. Like usual. I didn't sleep unless it was next to him, mainly because his arms were so warm and protective, I felt as if those memories would slip away, but they didn't. Dean would stroke my hair as I cried in my sleep and he would whisper sweet things in my ears when trying to calm me down. We sent note to everyone that Ryan had been killed on the job, and we met each other at the old house.

I could see Sam and Juliette's faces twisted in concern and words flowed from their lips, but none of it made sense. It was about a week later that I began to act the same. Dean still laid next to me at night, still comforting me, but it was still too rough for me to smile. A month passed, and I was smiling again and I was laughing and being the same old Keyla, but I still held him in my mind. Dean didn't leave my side, though.