Forelsket

Eyes filled with malice and blood lust.

Two rows of pointed, jagged teeth- Dozens of small, retractable knives, waiting for contact.

My vision was in slow motion; a freeze frame of my possible impending death. I was hoping for a plot twist. Dean's voice pressed play on reality.

"Just hold on! We're almost to the Impala!"

Dean's arm was around my waist, dragging me along. I couldn't feel or move my left arm, my head hazy. I struggled to keep up with him, blinking rapidly to kick-start any sense of vitality.

Behind us, three vampires, teenagers, dashed for us at inhuman speeds. The bow-legged Winchester's gaze was locked on our destination, his jaw set in determination. And I, being my clumsy self, tripped over a log.

A sharp pain starting at my elbow to my shoulder and back to my wrist exploded, shooting up and down the length of my arm.
"Fucking hell!!"

I guess the adrenaline is starting to wearing off

Dean stumbled as well, having been pulling my frame along.
"Son of a bitch",he muttered, helping me upright.

Dean glanced behind us at the snarling adolecents and quickly swept me off my feet, breathing almost as heavy as I was. In long strides, he sprinted to Baby.

The car was hidden behind the brush next to the highway. My good arm around his neck, the other left limp and throbbing. It rested on my abdomen like a literal dead weight, connected like a leech; parasitism.

Dean gently set me down by the 1976 Chevy and fumbled for the handle, creaking the passenger door open. After asisting me inside, he jogged to the other side of the impala and hopped in the driver's seat. Jamming the key into the ignition, he slammed his foot on the gas and zoomed out of the clearing.

By now, we were both coated in my blood. I was starting to get volintary movement in my arm. With effort, I turned the underside of my forearm slightly and caught a glimpse of the horror show that was my elbow. My reaction was utter shock and repulsion. It was definedly broken. I knew I would recover, but with a gnarly flesh scar. Dean obviously saw, but chose to keep quiet and focus on driving.
I arched my neck as far as I could to see the vampires in a cloud of raised dirt like a cartoon.

"Eat shit!", I jerked a middle finger in their direction, instantly regretted it. The mangled appendage of mine screamed in protest, making me cry out.

Dean winced.
If the situation was different, he would have chuckled and followed in the same action. But this was Serious Dean. The I'll rip you throat out with my teeth if you touch mi compadre Dean.

Keeping a hand on the wheel, Dean reached in his backseat to grab a dirty t-shirt of his; Then abanding the wheel altogether, switching the control to his knee. He tied the clothing into a makeshift sling and helped me into it as best he could.

"Thanks", I huffed out in intoleration , failing at a smile.
The older Winchester gave me a look of sympathy; and a glint of guilt.

"Really, I should have been there with you, I should have been there to protect you," His tongue darted out from between his lips and then retreated. "We shouldn't have gone different ways."

"I told you splitting up is always a bad idea, dummy", I was just about to punch his bicep playfully, to say that it's ok, and that I'm ok, but decided against it; I settled for a sticking out teasing tongue. Still, Dean shot a quick grin laced with mock humor in my direction.

A comfortable silence layed over us.
Red Hot Chillie Peppers played softly through the speakers. Compared to Dean's blunt classic rock adoration, he knew I liked newer stuff, that came out when we were teenagers.

The car dipped suddenly as one of the wheels advanced over a pothole, bumping my elbow against the seat.

"Ah!", I held my breath, squeezing my teary eyes shut.

"Sorry", Dean offered weakly, probably not deminishing his delusion that my injury was caused by him.

"It's fine, it's fine", I managed in gasping breaths.

Our mutual tranquility was T-boned by uncomfortability, and awkwardness ensued.

Ugh why did I have to react so abruptly... sure, it would have been nice if someone had my back, but I'm a big girl, as one is,  I can take care of myself. And now I'm just fucking useless

A rough, warm hand placed on my knee brought me to attention; Mostly confusion. I peeked through my wet lashes at it's owner to find Dean staring intently at the road, unfazed and indifferent. Dean's internal GPS was most likely set on the nearest hospital.

Warmth seemed to radiate from Dean's hand on my leg, all the way up my thigh, through my core; my face a ruby, and it settled at my injury. His touch of comfort was instantly calming. Dean rarely showed me any hints of affection, so I graciously appreciated the gesture.

I shouldn't even expect anything, it's not like we're together

Though Sam would have somehow read between the nonexistent lines of the budding romance of Dean and I,  but that would have been pointless. With the fucked up life we live? Is there even enough room for a weakness like love? The cliché notion that holds you back? In some aspects love can be your drive; but it becomes your fatal flaw.

Maybe Dean did like me. That's what Sam had said, naturally. Was I being stupid? Was I missing the chance to experience one of the greatest feelings in the world? The personification of vermillion explosions; late nights, low talks and glowing faces; a scar in the name of Dean etched onto my heart, a figment in the back of my mind. But then what?

I looked over to my occupied knee. The pain wasn't at its full extent, I wasn't excited for when the unbearable meter went up a few notches.
I wondered if Dean would stay at the hospital with me. Would he stay overnight? Or would he just go home to the bunker and come back when I was discharged from the hospital? A part of me pictured him asleep in a chair next to my hospital bed, an IV in my good arm; walls and floors and bed white and sanitary: a place where people die.

Hesitantly, I placed my good hand atop of his, which gripped my knee in surprise. I didn't bother to look at him, as he did I, squeezing his hand in response. Dean's grip ceased slightly as he relaxed and a small, slightly victorious smirk adorned my features.

I sneaked a look toward the man next to me, one hand on the steering wheel. Dean had a stupid grin on his face, resulting in an avalanche of laughter to bubble up above the pain. When we arrived at the hospital, I completely forgot why we were even going in the first place.