Sharing Dean Winchester

Chapter 6

Dean POV

I found a potential salt and burn case, an eight hour drive from the bunker. Sam and I called it a night so we can get a good night's rest. Only I can't sleep. I've been tossing and turning for hours and I've just watched the hours tick by.

I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, Lexie wouldn't be in my bed, but I was still disappointed to see the vacant spot she normally occupied. The room is too quiet without the peaceful music of her breathing when she's in a deep slumber, the bed is too cold without her pressed against me.

The red digits of the clock tell me it's five fifteen, I might as well get up, my alarm is set for six anyway. I leave my room, closing the door quietly and start down the hall. I stop by Lexie's door. I should check on her, I haven't seen her since dinner.

I open the door quietly and pop my head inside. Her bed is a mess, sheets thrown back but she's not in it. I have a split second of panic thinking that she's taken off. Left in the middle of the night, because I didn't fight her on the whole taking a break.

I check the library, then the war room and the wave of unease is slowly threatening to turn to panic. I speed walk toward the kitchen, and find her sat in the dark, the light from the hallway the only ambiance. She's sitting at the table eating peanut butter ice cream straight from the tub.

I slow my hasty approach, leaning on the doorframe, arms folded over my chest watching her. I'm not sure she's aware I'm there until she speaks, "you thought I'd split, huh?"

Okay, so she did notice my hasty walk to find her. She knows I thought she had left. I push off the frame walking slowly to sit beside her, "it crossed my mind."

She hands me the sweet treat and the spoon once she's licked it clean, without looking at me. She fiddles with the lid of the ice cream that sits on the table. "I told you it's a bad idea, but I said I'd stay. So, I'm not going anywhere," she promises.

That's the second time she's said that her staying is a bad thing, "why? Why is it a bad idea if you stay?"

She finally makes eye contact with me, but I wish she hadn't. Her normally happy, sweet, default expression is strained, she's hurting. It's written all over her face, it's so obvious it may as well be tattooed on her forehead.

Tears swim in her eyes when she questions me, "you really want me to pull that ripcord?"

No I don't. If she pulls that particular ripcord, the parachute of the shit show we've become will unravel. It will have so many holes in it we'll come crashing down. I want to stay in the freefall, where I know hitting the bottom will be the hardest part and I can avoid having frank and awkward conversations. So no I don't want her to pull it, I shake my head softly to tell her no.

She averts her eyes, sniffing back her tears she asks, "why you up so early anyway?"

"We found a job," I explain, eating a spoonful of ice cream, before handing it back. "Had to be up soon anyway."

It's not a total lie, it's a half truth.

Lexie focuses on her favourite treat, whilst I tell her about the case I found. She never once takes her gaze from the task of eating her ice cream, making slow and deliberate movements so she has more time to keep her eyes somewhere other than looking at me. "How's the headache?"

"Gone."

"So, not the reason you're up, eating ice cream in the dark?"

She chuckles with the silver spoon between her teeth, "I'm literally the embodiment of a chick flick I know," she flicks her eyes to me swiftly, "I'm eating my emotions."