Stories to Awaken Terror

Tailypo

"Sam, Dean?" You called out, trying to see in the darkened room. At least you assumed it was a room, but with how dark it was, you couldn't really tell anything. With your hands outstretched in front of you, you carefully walked forward, bumping against one thing that creaked before slowly continuing on.

"Y/N!" You heard Dean's voice muffled from in front of you.

"Dean, I'm in here!" You yelled, before a door was thrown open and you could finally see. You were in some sort of closet, no bigger than five feet by six at the most. It was crowded with broken furniture, and long forgotten items that had at least an inch of dust.

Dean reached in, pulling you tight against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you. "We couldn't find you," he whispered against your hair.

Being held like this, in his arms, felt right, and even though you were concerned about your surroundings, you couldn't help but relish in the touch. "What happened? Last thing I remember is falling asleep, but this doesn't look like my room."

"Same with me sweetheart," Dean agreed. "I was sitting at the library table, a cup of whiskey in my hand and them bam, I woke up on the outside of this creepy cabin."

"I was in my room reading when I felt this weird energy come over me, and I woke up on the floor of a kitchen." Sam spoke up, standing behind Dean.

"Do you think this has anything to do with those other hunts?" You asked, pulling away from Dean even though you didn't want to. "I mean the weird energy, the landing in this strange place. It's too much like last week, and it's really starting to freak me out."

"I'm starting to agree with you," Sam mumbled, running his hand through his hair. "This is too much of a coincidence. I just wish we could figure out the common factor."

"Yeah, before one of these becomes too much," Dean grumbled. "But for now let's figure out where we are, and how to get the hell out of here."

Surprising both of you, he reached down, grasping your hand with his. Keeping you at his side, the three of you began a trek through the small cabin, noticing nothing but dust and lack of habitants in years. "It doesn't seem to creepy," Sam said once you had taken in the small kitchen, the rustic living room, and the bathroom/bedroom combination. "Let's check outside."

Sam went to pull the door, frowning when it wouldn't budge. "Dean, weren't you just outside?"

"Yeah. I woke up on the porch," Dean answered. "Why? Won't it open?"

"It won't budge. Try the windows."

There were only three windows in the entire house. One in the living room, one in the kitchen, and one in the bedroom. Each of you took one, tugging and pushing as hard as you could, but none of them would budge. You were completely locked in, with no way out.

"It's late, and there's a couch and a bed. Let's get some sleep, and we can try again in the morning." Sam suggested. "I'll take the couch."

"That leaves you and me on the bed," Dean said, watching for your reaction. Suddenly feeling butterflies flying around in your stomach, you nodded. It wouldn't be the first time you had shared a bed with Dean, but this time it felt different. After the hug and the hand holding, you knew that was a step in your relationship with Dean. And it excited you. "As long as you're okay with that. I could always take the floor."

"No, the floor is cold, and we don't have any extra blankets. You can sleep with me," you assured him, watching as his tongue darted out, licking his bottom lip.

Without any spare clothes, Dean slipped out of his boots and flannel, leaving him in his jeans and t-shirt. You were already dressed for sleep, wearing a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, and you couldn't wait to climb under the covers and heat up from the chill of the cabin.