Sharing Dean Winchester

Chapter 1

Dean POV

I dig in the dirt of the plant on the porch of Rufus' cabin, looking for the key that is normally stashed there. I get about four inches deep and realise the key is gone. I drop my head onto my chest - just frigging great - and let out a frustrated breath.

I escape purgatory, can't get ahold of Sam, spend four days hitchhiking and boosting cars to get here, and now the key is gone. I look around for anything I can use to jimmy the lock, a protruding nail from the rotting wooden bench will have to do.

It takes me less than two minutes to gain entry. I step over the threshold, close the door in the same movement of flipping on the light and then I'm attacked from behind.

They grab my wrist to twist my arm up my back but I'm stronger and resist, throwing my elbow back I connect with air as the assailant ducks underneath my arm. They fold in to my body, bringing their back flush against my chest and throw me over their shoulder to land painfully on my back on the wooden floor.

My right arm is pulled straight close to being pulled from the socket, a knee digs into my armpit and the cold, sleek metal of a gun grinds in to flesh under my chin. I meet the eyes of the aggressor, "Lexie?"

"Hey Princess Glitter," she snarls at me.

It's the nickname she gave me after we had a short-lived prank war, that Sammy stopped before it got out of hand. She put glitter in the air vent of Baby. I swear I spent three weeks finding glitter in all the wrong places.

She used the nickname but her tone suggests she doesn't believe it's me, which is smart. I've been gone a year, I could be any number of things. But so could she. I look for a weakness, her gun isn't cocked so if I'm quick enough I can get her off me before she can pull the trigger.

We survey each other closely, breath heaving with the adrenaline running through us as we decide our next moves. Her curly mousy blonde hair is pulled back into a loose bun, giving me a perfect view of the fading bruises on her left eye and right jaw line, three scratches on her neck that are flaky looking scabs. She's wearing cotton shorts and that helps me find her weakness. She has what I think is a knife wound on the outside of her upper right thigh, it's stitched but it's fresh enough for me to know it still causes her pain. I use my free hand and grab her thigh, kneading my palm deeply in to the wound.

She yelps, drops my right arm, and I take the opportunity to twist the gun out of her hand. She crawls away from me, pain and anger making her grind her teeth.

"Are you, you?" I demand pointing the gun at her slowly getting to my feet.

There's no point in her verablising her answer, I won't believe her and she knows that. She uses a chair to assist her clumsy climb to her feet, keeping her right leg as straight as possible. I was right the wound still hurts.

She takes the holy water from her bag on the table and throws it in her face, with no reaction. She throws the bottle to me without a word and I do the same. No reaction. She takes a silver blade and knicks the inside of her elbow. Apart from the usual hiss of discomfort there's no reaction and thankfully no black leviathan goo.

Lexie is Lexie. She holds the weapon by the blade and indicates she's going to throw it to me, she waits for me to put her gun on the bookshelf beside the door and I snatch the blade from the air as it sails toward me.

When she sees I'm not a shapeshifter or a leviathan she limps toward me. Tears stroll down her cheeks before she pulls me into a hug. "Missed you too, sweetheart." I tell her honestly sighing into her. It feels good to have human contact other than an act of violence. "Where's Sam?"