Across the memory lane

When you two got home, that night, you were very drunk. You were laughing while entering into the bunker, Dean behind you with a smile on his face, the keys in a hand. Finally you helped him to take a break after what happened in Purgatory and you were glad. Dean wasn't the same anymore and it worried you. All you had ever wanted was to stay by his side, in good or bad, even if he treated you without gentleness because he was angry, even if he blew off the dates with you to see other girls or to help Sam during a hunt. You felt relieved everytime you saw his eyes bright or him excited about his car. Yes, you knew that they were stupid things and that you were a hopeless romantic, but you had a crush on him and you couldn't deny it. But he hadn't to know. You were already able to see him: Thanks, Y/N. I'm really honored, but I... don't feel the same about you. I'm sorry, with his soft smile, his dimples, his pink lips and his green eyes (mortified for you). That's why you wouldn't have told anything to him.

<< Do you... Oh my... Do you remember when I got laid with that girl in Sammy's room? He was so angry! >> Dean exclaimed, laughing.

You nodded, grabbing some chips to eat.

<< And what about that time in which you used that dumb pick up line with my friend, like Hey did it hurt when you fell from Heaven? and Cas said: Is she an angel? By the way, obviously, it hurt. I was laughing so hard! >>

Dean sat down next to you, grabbing some chips too.

<< I can't believe that Stairway to Heaven always makes him cry like a baby. >>

You giggled.

<< That's cute. >>

He glanced at you for a second, then he stared at the chips in the plate. He gulped, without saying a word for a minute.

<< I know what you did tonight. >> he said. You swallowed a mouthful. << Thanks. I hadn't laughed like this for... ages. >>

<< No problem. >> you replied, feeling a little sleepy. << I think I'm going to bed, now. >>

You stood up, took your coat and walked to your room. You didn't hear Dean's footsteps behind you, but a little bit later, he was laying his shoulder against your door's jamb.

<< I missed you. >> he spoke and his voice scared you. You left your pijama on the bed, not being able to change your clothes. You couldn't do it with him around. << While I was in Purgatory. I guess I needed a memory that could keep me human, that could bring me back somehow. >>

He moisted his lips.

<< What was your memory? >> you asked, almost whispering.

Dean clenched his jaw, looking through your window. It was like it embarrassed him, not because it was awkward, but rather, intimate. It was something that kept talking to him, caressing him, murmuring to him while he was alone defeating monsters, while he was feeling so lonely and desperate, without Cas or Benny, during the night. You could see him: sat down under a tree, looking at the stars, remembering that fourth of July spent with Sam when he was little, missing him. Instead, now, you come to know that he thought about you, sometimes. You had some favourite memories about him, but you wouldn't tell him. They were too private (not dirty, just private). He wouldn't understand.

<< When I was about to die, five years ago. Do you remember what you said to me? >>

Your view became blurry instantly, while your gaze was lost somewhere through the wall behind Dean. Of course you did. You couldn't avoid to remember it.