Darkened Warriors - Lost Spirits

Chapter 14 part 2 - End

It took me some time but I got myself back under control, dressed and joined him in the kitchen. He was already fully dressed except for his boots. He'd made pancakes this time. We ate in silence.

He broke the silence first, "Sam's coming here. He stayed at the hotel he met Bobby at. Sam said he's doing fine."

"Good. I'm glad he's stable. How long before he gets here?" I asked.

"Little over two hours."

"You know what would go well with these pancakes?" I asked.

"What?"

"Pie."

He laughed, "Coming right up."

I caught the grateful look he had on his face as he stood up. Dean and I had never been good at saying good bye. The last piece of the blueberry pie was placed in front of me, he had cut himself a piece of the pecan that was almost a quarter of the whole thing.

"Why not save me a plate and just eat yours out of the pan? You may as well with a slice that big." I teased him.

"That would be rude."

I rolled my eyes, "Now you remember your manners."

He lightly kicked me under the table. "I must be getting senile in my old age."

"Oh, I've known that for years now. Sam will have to start doing all the driving soon because you'll forget where you are."

"Ha! Already took care of that. Have a phone with GPS, nice try." Laughter started to dance in his eyes again.

I didn't have a comeback for that, so I resorted to throwing a napkin at him. He threw it back. We looked at each other, he twitched. I dove off the chair and grabbed the extendable faucet from the sink and sprayed him in the face with water. He had planned ahead and I hadn't noticed, hidden behind the sugar container was a can of whip cream.

"Damn it Dean!" I blurted and twisted my head before he got it in my face. It was bad enough he had covered my shirt with it, "I just took a shower!"

"You threw the napkin first. Don't blame me."

I glared at him, his face was dripping water and he had a can of whip cream aimed at me. I couldn't help myself and just started laughing. He joined in and took a step closer, silly him. I wiped some of the whip cream off my shirt and smothered it on his face.

"I'm taking the high road," he said, "And not retaliating. I was the one who did all the work in that shower." He winked and handed me a towel. I cleaned up and went upstairs to change shirts.

I walked by my spare room, it was time to give him what I'd made. I thought about what I was going to say when I did and realized that it would just make things awkward, we're horrible at goodbyes. I picked the pouch up off the table, ripped a piece of paper out of a notebook, grabbed a pen and sat down to write. Nothing came to me, or maybe too many things came all at once. I gave it a few minutes and eventually narrowed it down to two sentences.

"This is for when you sleep. It should help.

Coyote"

I folded the paper up, put it and the pouch in an envelope. His bags were packed, but still on the floor of my bedroom. I'd woken up with him enough on the road that I knew which bag he kept his shaving kit in. I opened it, placed the envelope under his kit where he would see it, closed his bag back up, put on a new shirt and went downstairs.

He was stretched out on the larger of my couches, which sat across from the stairs and he watched  every step I took. I stood in front of him, he shifted so I could lie between his legs and lean against his chest. One of his hands went around my waist the other across my chest and he pressed his face against my head, and that's how we stayed until we heard the rumble of Baby's engine.