It Was Always You

Chapter 1

You and the boys just finished taking out a vamps nest in some rural, backwoods town. The nest itself was bigger than the three of you expected and there were some close calls, but you guys got it done. Now you're heading back to the motel to get cleaned up, Sam is passed out in the back seat which left you and Dean in the front. You look over towards Dean and can tell he's still pissed at you for almost getting bit by a vamp. In your defense you were preoccupied with the two vamps you were trying to decapitate in front of you and didn't have enough time to turn around to spot the third. Luckily Dean stormed into the room, blade swinging, and saved you. You didn't think much of it, being in dangerous situations is part of the job...hell, he's the one who repeatedly preaches that before, during, and after hunts.

When it's him in danger that's one thing but if it's someone else, even if they have no control over the situation, it's a completely different thing. And this was that. He was pissed at you even though there was nothing you could do, and it's not like you can go back and redo the scenario, so he's gonna have to get over it. You wanted to get the conversation over with before you got back to the motel so that the three of you could hopefully have a good night and blow off some steam at a local bar you passed on the way into town.

You didn't really know how to start or what to say so, without even looking at him, you say, "I'm sorry Dean..."

"Sorry what was that sweetheart? Couldn't hear ya."  He glances over and says with a bite of anger in his voice.

You are still too scared to look at him. You hate when Dean is mad at you. Especially when you had no control over the situation that caused it. Honestly, you don't even really understand why he is mad, Sam has been in the situation you were just in hundreds of times and Dean has never been this pissy with him.

But still, you can't help but tear up when responding, "I said I'm sorry, I know you're mad even though I don't really know why, and I don't like when you're mad at me... so I'm sorry." You say louder this time but still looking out the front windshield instead of at him.

"You don't know why I'm mad? Don't be stupid y/n. You know exactly why. You could've been bit or worse...." he snaps.

His knuckles are turning white he's gripping the wheel so hard. And his jaw - oh god that jaw you've stared at for countless hours, the jaw that has taken blow after blow in fights, that jaw that sometimes rests on top of your head when he walks behind you to see what lore you're reading up on, that jaw covered in the perfect amount of sexy stubble - is repeatedly clenching. You know you should be mad at how he reacted, upset that he's upset, but the ache in between your legs from seeing him wound up like this is proof of a much different reaction. You continue to watch the flex of his jaw muscles, his hands twisting tightly over the wheel, his emerald eyes with a predator-like focus on the road. You press your legs tighter together to create some form, any form, of friction to help alleviate the throbbing at your core.

You know you shouldn't be thinking like this, for one Sam is literally in the back seat and two, Dean probably sees you as nothing more than an annoying sister. But you can't help it. You try to focus and get yourself back under control, you turn your head back to the road, but out of the corner of your eye you can still catch glimpses of him. You cross your legs now and shift around in your seat, pretending to get comfortable, but really the motion is causing the seam in your skinny jeans to rub against your clit just right.

"You alright there?" Dean looks over, and for a fraction of a second you think you see a smirk cross his face. But, just as quickly as it was there, it was gone, and he was now looking at you quizzically.

You're ripped from the sinful thoughts and inner ramblings and panic takes over for a second. Come on y/n, calm down, play it cool, it's just Dean... you tell yourself. You push the ache and throbbing of your core to the back of your mind and remind yourself that you can take care of it later. "Yeah, just uncomfortable, I need to get out of these clothes, the blood is causing them to stick."

"Okayyyyy" he draws out still sounding confused, but then his expression changes and he looks back towards the road. Suddenly, he lets out a sigh and looks over at you, his expression now soft and caring, "I'm sorry for snapping on you sweetheart. I know it wasn't your fault, but I..." he trails off and a look of pain and deep thought crosses his face. He looks down at his lap, takes a deep breath and then looks over at you, those eyes piercing your soul. "Damn it y/n, you scared the shit out of me okay. I know that danger is in the job description, but I hate seeing you hurt, and I don't know what I would do if something happened to you."

He looks back at the road ahead. You can tell he was holding something back, but you didn't press the issue. You sat quiet for a moment, trying to comprehend everything he just said. What does that mean, he wouldn't know what to do if something happened to me? You replay his statement over and over in your head. A flicker of hope builds in your chest that maybe deep down, Dean feels something for you too, but just as soon as that flicker lit, it was put out by your own subconscious reminding you that Dean doesn't do relationships, he doesn't want to risk anyone's lives for being close to him. So you push the statement and the thoughts and hopes it brought with it to the back of your mind. You look back over at Dean and can tell he's hurt, maybe he thinks you're still mad at him. God, I should say something, do something, you tell yourself.

You reach over and take one of Dean's hands off of the wheel and place it in between your own. With that minimal amount of contact your heart starts beating a million times faster, your breathing more shallow and labored, and sparks are shooting through every nerve in your body. Maybe you imagined it, but you swear you heard Dean's breath hitch at the touch, only you didn't imagine it because you just watched him swallow the lump in his throat it caused. You look back down at his hand that you had subconsciously been rubbing with the pads of your thumbs, you steal a glimpse of him through your eyelashes and you catch him wetting his sinful lips taking a shaky breath and briefly shutting his eyes. It's probably just because he's emotional and still kind of upset, you reason with yourself. There is no way he can feel the same about you y/n, stop it, now tell him what you meant to when you grabbed his hand in the first place.

Now it's your turn to take the shaky breath, "Dean, I really am sorry. I didn't mean to scare you..." you try to articulate how to say the next part without giving any inward feelings away. "I promise to be more careful, and I understand why you snapped and why you were so upset. If something were to happen to you..." you tear up a bit and your breathing is getting a tad shaky. "Or Sam" you quickly stammer out fearing he may uncover your feelings for him if you don't add it, "it would literally kill me."

You look up at him when you're done talking and his gaze meets yours, he uses the hand you were holding with both of yours to gently wipe a stray tear that made its way down your cheek. Without thinking you nuzzle into his hand, but quickly realize what you just did so you pull away and look back at the road.

Up ahead you see the blinking neon sign signalling you are almost back to the shithole of a motel you are shacked up in this weekend. You let out a breath of relief and turn to wake Sam. All the while replaying the last few minutes in your head. The conversations. The expressions. The body language. The feelings. The emotions. The physical contact, and what it all means.

You shake your head, trying to clear it. This is Dean, your best friend. You can't ruin that. So, you decide to push it to the back of your head with everything else and lock it away. Dean puts the Impala in park and you all let out a sigh of relief, that you can finally take a load off. Then Sam finally and suddenly speaks up from the backseat with a wide puppy dog grin on his face, "So who wants to go blow off some steam and down a few drinks? It's happy hour!"

To be continued....