Mask- a Supernatural fanfiction

Chapter 29: The Note

I finally woke up, gasping for air. Dean–who was fully dressed in his usual attire– held my shoulders in his hands as Edward had done, and his face close to mine. I was covered in sweat, despite feeling like I was in Antarctica.

It was a dream. It was just a dream.

Dean's hands gripped my face as he tried to calm me down, "Hey, hey. It was just a nightmare. You're okay, baby. I'm here. I only left for a couple of minutes. I'm here now. I'm so sorry, baby."

I was still overwhelmed at how it was only a nightmare. Edward was here. He kissed my cheek. He spoke to me. He touched me. He sat in that chair. He turned on that light. He threw my gun at my feet.

It was just a dream.

Dean's eyes searched for mine. When I finally snapped out of my state, I allowed our eyes to make contact, bringing me enough peace to calm me. His face was full of worry; his eyebrows were raised, his eyes were wide, and his mouth was slightly open.

He sat down on the bed next to me, keeping my head in his hands. I lifted my hand up to his, holding it there. His touch was warm, unlike Edward's. And I was glad he could finally get rid of Edward's cold touch from my body.

"Where were you?" I practically whispered. I wasn't asking him where he was in real life. I was asking him why he wasn't in my dream with Edward.

"I was putting our bags in the car," he almost apologized, "I thought you needed sleep, so I left for a couple minutes. When I came back, you were screaming."

I was screaming? In my dream I was speechless.

"I tried to wake you up, but you wouldn't," he continued. It looked like he was going to start crying. "What did you dream about?"

I took a breath. "Edward."

He took his hands from my face, but held my hands.

"Do you want to talk about it?" it sounded more like begging instead of asking.

Talking would help. But it seemed so damn real. What if it was? No, that's impossible. And Dean deserved to know.

So I nodded my head and he repositioned himself on the bed next to me. He was closer now. But not close enough.

"It-it felt so real, Dean. You weren't in the bed, and I thought you left. But when I sat up, I saw someone sitting in that chair," I pointed to the chair Edward had sat in and Dean turned his head, "It was so dark, and I thought it was you, so I asked you what was wrong. But you didn't answer. Then I saw that you had clothes on, so I thought maybe it was time to leave. So I asked you if it was, but you still didn't answer. Then you turned on the lamp, but it wasn't you. It was..." Dean's eyes pitied me and I forced myself to say the name, "It was Edward." He took a breath.

"He asked me why I left where they tortured me, and he seemed so angry. I couldn't move. But then I looked for my gun," I looked at the bedside table where my gun was, untouched, "but it wasn't there. He had it. He took the magazine out and threw the gun at my feet right there," I pointed to where the gun had landed on the bed and Dean followed, "Then I asked him why he was here," I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged them.

"And he said... he said he was here to take back what belongs to him," Dean looked up to me with slight confusion, "Me," I answered his thoughts. He took a breath and so did I. He pulled me to him, comforting me. But I wasn't done.

A tear rolled down my cheek as I continued, "And when he held me to the bed, I heard you calling my name." I snuggled in closer to him and he gripped me tighter, "Edward heard it too. He said that you had finally come to save me, for now." Shivers ran through my body as I realized he threatened to kill Dean indirectly.

Dean started to rub my back.

"And I kept hearing you call my name, but you weren't in the room. Edward said that he would come back, and he kissed my cheek. He told me that I should wake up. But I couldn't move. He started to shake me. Then I heard your voice yelling louder, and Edward's voice turned into yours. And then I woke up." I let out a long breath, hoping the memory of the dream would leave with it. But it didn't. But I pretended it did.

"It felt so real," I repeated as I closed my eyes while I let Dean grip me even tighter.

"Sh, it was just a dream," he cooed in my ear.

It sure as hell didn't feel like it.

"I had another one earlier, too." I told him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, anger making its way through.

"I was going to, but then I saw you in the bar..." I started, but I didn't want to finish. It still hurt, and I was trying to just forget about it.

I felt him tense against me, and I knew he was uncomfortable too.

I waited a beat before asking him, "Can I tell you now?"

I felt him sigh, and then he answered, "Please."

So I told him. I told him about how I heard someone calling my name in the empty motel room, about how I went to go figure out where it was coming from. Then I told him about how Edward appeared covered in blood. I told him how he said that he was coming for me. And how I woke up right after. And I told him about how real it felt, too.

When I finished, he held me before letting me go and ordering, "Okay get the rest of your stuff. We're leaving this hell hole, now."

Dean had already taken my bag down to the car. All I had to get was my phone and gun. My phone was on the bedside table, along with pistol. I picked up my phone, and then my gun.

But underneath it was a piece of paper that I didn't remember putting there.

Until next time, my dear. –Ed

Oh my god.

"Dean!" I yelled, holding the piece of paper in my shaking hand. In a flash, he was next to me. He took the paper from my hand and held it, reading it.

Dean ripped it up, and threw it on the ground. He quickly grabbed my hand and led me to the door, almost fuming.

"We're leaving. Now." His voice was strong and almost scary. I followed behind him, his hand still gripping my hand tight, not caring that I was only in his shirt and my panties.