Haunted (Dean Winchester x Original Character)

CHAPTER 5

Our physical connection kept getting even stronger the more time we spent together. We crushed each other against the library shelves; witchcraft and demonology books digging into our shoulder-blades as we kissed passionately, just because we couldn't wait until to reach. We decided to not say anything about it to Sam, especially since there wasn't really much to tell; we were sleeping together, and that was about it. It only took him a few days to figure it out on his own, though. We weren't exactly silent, to be quite honest, and the fact that we couldn't keep our hands from each other didn't help either. Dean was always finding excuses to hug me, or brush my arm, or rest his hand on my thigh. And Sam was way too observant to not notice.

But, I guess, if he didn't know by then, it became apparent when he ended up arguing at 2 am after another night under the sheets. 



"I can't wait to leave and hit the road again," I said into the darkness, as we laid on his bed, half-naked, and still entangled with each other. "I miss the wind on my hair, driving with the windows rolled down, and that feeling of not knowing where I'll end up next, you know?"

"Leave?" he echoed. Out everything I said, it was the one word that lodged in his brain, as an emergency alarm unexpectedly going off. "What do you mean? You're leaving? What about us?"

We pulled away from each other, as I sensed the tension rising up in his voice, and he sat all the way up to reach out for the bed lamp. 


"I thought that was explicit." I kind of chuckled, sliding out of the sheets and putting my tank-top back on, missing Dean's face as I spoke. "You weren't actually expecting me to stay, were you?"

I turned around, and his face went blank for a moment. I realized then that my response wasn't the one he was hoping to hear.


"But why? It's not like you have another place to go." I looked down, my lips pressed together forming a straight line. "Okay, sweetheart, that came out wrong."

"No, it's fine" I replied, standing up and gathering my clothes from the floor. I was slightly angry, in reality, not because he reminded me I had no one else in my life, but because he assumed that should be reason enough to stay with him. "This is your home, anyway, Dean. Your place, I can't stay here."

"Hey, you're family now. This is your place too, and besides, we have a ton of extra space." I opened my mouth to blurt out another excuse, just valid enough to change the subject or to avoid the conversation at all. "Why can't you stay?" he interrupted. "We could hunt together, the three of us. We could hit the road, and not knowing where we'll end up next together."

"Do you really want to add another weak spot to your life? Demons are going to be thrilled."

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on, it's hard as it is having to take care of Sam, imagine hunting with a girlfriend." His eyes widened a little at the sound of giving our thing such a formal label, and I instantly regretted my choice of words. "Or fuck-buddy, or whatever you want to call us." I rephrased. "My point is, I learned my lesson the hard way to not hunt with the people you care about. They are just gonna get killed eventually, no matter what you do."

"Leah," he called out, getting out of the bed, standing up in front of me with no t-shirt and wearing only a black pair of boxers. I remember thinking how unfair of him it was to come at me like that. He could've won any argument wearing only those.

"You can't tell me you don't feel it too." His hands found my face, his voice coming out almost as a whisper.

He wasn't wrong, the feelings were there, and I tried to show them with every kiss and every tender caress I gave him, but emotions in our job are dangerous. They get you killed faster.



"Yeah, I do, but it's not about us, Dean. This job... we can't—" I shook my head. "Can we talk this in the morning?" 



He nodded his head, breathing deeply as if he were trying to keep himself under control. I didn't understand at that time what me saying those words meant to him. What hearing 'I'm leaving you' must have sounded in his mind, but I was freaking out too, just for opposite reasons. What happens when we start hunting again? What happens when a demon decides to use me as bait? Or a shifter takes his form and begins to torture me to get into my head? What happens when one of us dies?

I wanted to stay, and the idea had crossed my mind so many times. Every day, actually. Every morning when I woke up just a couple of minutes before him and I was able to take him in completely. The moments when I could watch his chest rise and fall, and smile whenever he did that funny but cute snore every now and then. And I could picture myself waking up to that image for the rest of my life. But the idea of loving another person so intensely as I loved him then sent more chills down my spine than any other monster could possibly do. The cuddles, the midnight kisses, the flowers and the laughs, that was the natural part of love, and everyone could do it. We were moving too fast, and falling too hard, and for someone like me who has never had anything like this before, a love so strong seemed like a prison I wasn't sure I wanted to be locked in. 



I went back to bed, and I couldn't sleep. I relived the conversation in my head over and over again. I tried to remember his body language, and why a guy who had told me he didn't do relationships back when we first met, was now asking me to stay and built something together.

As scared as I was of staying, I still wanted to walk across the hall and sleep next to him. We had become so used to each other, I was already feeling his absence, and that was the first sign of alert I was so absent-mindedly trying to ignore. I had stumbled with a rock I so desperately tried to avoid, and now, I was falling to the cold, hard ground.

At some point later I heard my door opening, and next thing I know, I felt the weight of him by my side on the bed. 



"I'm sorry," Dean simply said, his voice hoarse. "It's just— I guess, I'm so used to people leaving me that I couldn't help to freak out when you told you are leaving too. And I get it, it's a smart move." He escaped a dry laugh. "I'd do it too if I were you."



I shook my head, sitting up straight. "I wasn't planning to walk away from your life forever," I said, not sure how much truth was on the words I was saying because the reality was that I hadn't planned anything. "But staying here, with you, hunting?"



"I know, trust me, I know. Sam left for Stanford. Dad left because of the demon. Cas left because of heaven. Mom left because I wasn't the son she wanted. And you are leaving because this is not enough. And that's okay." He patted his hand on my knee before standing up, but I pulled him back to the bed again. And there I saw it; the sadness falling over him again. Like a halo on a fallen angel.



"Don't do that." I shook my head. "Don't talk yourself down like that because it has nothing to do with you, okay? Nothing, I mean it. If we weren't hunters, I would freaking marry you, Dean Winchester. And I don't even believe in marriage and all that crap. That's just how amazing you are."

He didn't smile as I expected him to, but he needed to know that.

I knew he didn't believe me then. Not at first, but he had to know. I cupped his face, my thumb brushing across his cheeks, and I kissed him with every ounce of love I had for him. He needed to know that my fears and my feelings for him were so damn intense that the thought of seeing him getting killed because of them made me want to leave. I wanted him alive, and I wanted him to be mine, but without knowing what the hell was going on with me, I wasn't sure I could have it both ways.